


A Court of Love and Lies

by TipandMalarkey



Series: ACOTAR Uni AU [1]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-11-02 14:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 24,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10946238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TipandMalarkey/pseuds/TipandMalarkey
Summary: Feyre can't get Tamlin to leave her alone, no matter how many times she tells him they will never get back together. When Rhysand stumbles upon them during a confrontation, he devises a plan that just might work...





	1. Tamlin

Feyre hiked the bag back onto her shoulder as it slips for the umpteenth time. The walk to her dad’s office was only ten minutes but when she had to keep readjusting her bag every half a minute, it somehow seemed infinitely longer.  
She and her two sisters, Nesta and Elain, went different days of the week to spend their lunch break with their dad. They only lived about 20 minutes away, so in theory it was possible for them to live at home while attending Prythian University. But like many young students, they all wanted some independence, so one by one, the three sisters moved into the University’s dorms. To remind their father that they won’t forget about him, they visit him during the week and often on weekends.  
She walked through the entrance of Ashwood Arts Building and made her way to the reception desk. “Hello Miss Archeron,” the receptionist said, “Here to see your father?”  
“As per usual, Isaac.” Feyre grinned. Isaac Hale was a couple years older than her, but didn’t want to go to university like most people his age. Instead he got a job as a mail sorter at Ashwood, and climbed his way up to being the receptionist. He was an old childhood friend of Feyre’s, so she thinks her dad had something to do with the quick promotion.  
He knew all three girls, and he had learnt their pattern pretty quickly. Nesta had been coming every Monday for three years, Elain every Wednesday for two years and Feyre had been coming every Thursday for nearly a year now. Isaac often joked that he was waiting for the fourth sister to start coming in on Tuesdays.  
He handed Feyre her visitor’s lanyard that stated who she was and why she was there, and she slipped it over her head. Feyre walked over to the lift and pushed the button for the 24th floor. Just before the doors closed a blond figure dashed through the small gap.  
“Tamlin!?” Feyre said incredulously. “What are you doing here?”  
“I knew that if I could get you while you were in the lift, I could get you alone for a while.” He replied, stating it as if it were obvious.  
Feyre was still looking at him in confusion and shock, “But why? Did you follow me?”  
“Yes, and so we could talk properly about us getting back together!” He said triumphantly, taking a step towards her. Feyre countered him, taking a step back so she was pressed against the railings on the wall.  
“We’ve already talked about this Tamlin.” She sighed, worn out by his constant advances.  
“Yeah, but I thought you might have changed your mind!” he said eagerly, taking another step towards her. The lift stopped and Feyre glanced at the floor number: 9. She took a step away from Tamlin, sliding into the corner, and got a glimpse of dark hair before Tamlin filled up her view again.  
“Tamlin, I haven’t changed my mind the last 12 times you’ve asked me, I’m not going to change my mind this time.” Tamlin’s face darkened, and he took a step closer again. Feyre was completely trapped and she was starting to feel panicked. She was aware of the lift stopping again but she didn’t know what floor.  
Tamlin spoke in a low, furious voice “Why not? I was a perfect boyfriend, you were the one who couldn’t do as you were told and were always making me angr-”  
“Feyre?” A male voice said from behind Tamlin. Tamlin froze and spun round, seeing who had interrupted him. The dark haired male grinned, “I thought it was you! Have you done anything for our English project yet?” He came and stood in the gap that Tamlin had made, and now she was cornered on both sides. But he leaned against the metal wall, creating a gap between him and Tamlin that allowed Feyre to feel like she could breathe again.  
Tamlin swung round to Feyre again and growled “Who is this?”  
Feyre looked into the attractive male’s violet eyes and said “This is Rhysand.”

“Who?” Tamlin repeated.  
“He’s in my English class, we’re doing a project together.” Feyre said, picking up Rhysand’s bluff, never taking her eyes off of his. The lift pinged at level 24, and the doors slid open.  
Rhysand pushed off the wall and stood by the doors and asked, “Care to discuss said project as I walk you to your father’s office?”  
Feyre ducked around Tamlin, but he grabbed her arm before she could reach the exit. “We aren’t done here!” he hissed. Feyre pulled her arm out of his grip and hurried over the threshold. Rhysand followed her out and waved to the fuming Tamlin as the doors closed.  
Rhysand turned to Feyre, and noticed that she was rubbing her arm where Tamlin had grabbed her. “Are you okay?” She had been looking at the door but her attention snapped to the concerned man in front of her.  
“I-yes, sorry, I just- I wasn’t expecting to see him.” She looked down the hallway to her father’s office, and then back to Rhysand. “Thank you for that, Rhysand-”  
“Please, call me Rhys.”  
Feyre smiled, “Thank you, Rhys.”  
“So what’s with you and blondie?” Rhysand questioned, his eyes curious.  
Feyre just shook her head. The story was too long to explain and she didn’t really want to share anyway. “It doesn’t matter, it’s in the past so…” She said, drifting off. She looked down the hallway again, “I- I don’t want to seem rude but-”  
“You’re meant to meet your dad for lunch?” He cut in.  
“You have a thing with interrupting people don’t you?” She said with a grin.  
He smirked in response, “Only when it concerns someone beautiful.” Feyre’s mouth dropped open a little at his forwardness, but before she could say anything, Rhysand continued “Which is all the time, I mean, have you seen me?”  
Feyre opened and closed her mouth for a couple seconds before bursting into laughter. Rhysand just grinned the whole time. Feeling somewhat foolish that she had fallen for that, she shook her head and left, but she was grinning as she walked away, Rhysand calling out to her that he would see her tomorrow.


	2. Hello Partner

Feyre was sat in her English Lit class and was scribbling something in her notebook when she noticed someone sit down next to her on her right. She stopped writing and tilted her head slightly, she saw black jeans. She looked up further and saw a soft, grey pullover jumper. Finally, her eyes rested on his handsome face, though she already knew exactly who was sat beside her; Rhysand was looking at her slyly, his violet eyes glinting. “Hello partner.” He purred in way of greeting.  
Feyre quirked her eyebrow at him, “Partner? What, are you a cowboy now?”  
“Nope, just foretelling our project together.” He claimed, settling back into his chair. He turned his attention away from Feyre, instead sitting with his arms crossed and smirking towards the front of the seminar room.  
“Are you talking about yesterday?” Feyre asked. She continued when he didn’t respond, “You know that we don’t actually have an English project to do?” Again, he ignored her. She dropped her pencil onto the table “You are infuriating, you know that right?” The only response she got was his smirk turned into a grin, but she took that as a win, and settled down into her chair, victorious.  
The English lecturer, Mr. Suriel entered the room, and addressed the class “Okay guys, for the past couple of weeks we have been looking at a lot at plays; Shakespeare, Wilde, Miller. The different techniques used in tragedies and comedies, techniques of different eras. So now, you will have to combine what you have learnt to another artistic form, be it music, art or an actual performance. You will have to write a short script which this other art form goes with. This is not a stand-alone project. Groups can be as small as two’s but please no more than groups of five…” Feyre was stunned.  
As Mr. Suriel spoke she looked to Rhysand, to the front, and then back to Rhysand again, a small laugh escaping her lips. Rhysand he just kept on grinning. “Did you plan this?” she whispered, amused.  
“No,” Rhysand whispered, “I just actually listen when he rambles off at the end of lectures unlike so many other people.” He glanced her way just in time to see her flush in embarrassment for being caught not paying attention.

At the end of the seminar, which was more like a lecture today, Rhysand finally turned to Feyre fully. “So partner,” he said, “can I have your number?”  
“And why should I agree to be your partner?” Feyre asked, a playful tone to her voice.  
“What? Apart from my dashingly good looks?” Rhysand replied, faux confusion in his voice. Feyre just raised her eyebrows at him. “Well, you do art, I do drama. We’re a dream team. Plus the fact that you told Tamlin you were, and he could very easily find out that you were lying.”  
“Are you blackmailing me?” Feyre asked bluntly.  
Rhysand’s eyes widened in surprise, “No! No, Cauldron no!” Rhys shook his head. “Okay I can see why it sounded like that, but I just meant that it might be a good idea.” He looked at the girl before him again. “Come on, I can’t be that bad can I?”  
Feyre studied his violet eyes. All of his points were good ones, and she definitely didn’t want Tamlin finding out that she had lied. “Give me your phone.” She said. A smile plagued Rhysand’s face once again as he handed it to her, and watched her type in his number.

Feyre fumbled into her room, chucked her bag onto her desk and flopped onto her constellation-covered bed, ignoring her roommate’s greeting. “Um, you alright there Feyre?” Mor asked, somewhat amused at her friends dramatics.  
Feyre rolled onto her back and looked up to the ceiling as she responded. “You know how I told you about the Tamlin and Rhysand thing yesterday?”  
Mor got up from her desk and went and to sit on her own bed, roses flowing and twinning on the sheets, a couple of metres to the left of Feyre’s “Yeah, what about it?”  
“Well, today in English we got set a project and Rhysand is my partner.” Mor burst into laughter.  
She knew exactly how annoying Rhys could be to work with. “What, like you two are legitimately doing an English project together now?”  
“Yup.” Mor just kept laughing until Feyre threw a pillow at her, which hit her square in the face. She looked stunned for a couple seconds before falling onto her back in another fit of laughter, this time Feyre joining in with her.  
“Maybe it’ll be good though, you could become friends again. Oh, but you’re gonna have your work cut out for you.” Mor said eventually, when she could breathe properly again.  
“I thought you said he was good to work with?” Feyre questioned, raising onto her elbows and suddenly alarmed that their project might end up being completely loaded onto her.  
“Oh, no, yeah, he’s great at what he does, and he won’t slack or anything, but working with him can be insufferable, always has been, even when we were kids.” Mor’s reassurance calmed her down, and she flopped onto her back once again.  
“I always forget that you two have known each other since you were little.” Feyre said.  
“Practically cousins.” Mor replied sarcastically.  
After a couple moments of silence, Feyre spoke again, “What exactly did you mean by he’s insufferable?”  
But Mor just started laughing again.


	3. Tamlin

Feyre woke up to the sound of Mor blow drying her hair in their en suite bathroom, and reluctantly pulled herself out of bed. She grabbed her phone off the desk to check for any notifications.  
Not that she usually had many texts except from Tamlin, but this time she had one from an unknown number about an hour ago. Curiosity peaked in her as she unlocked her phone to see what the message said.  
_Meet me so we can talk about our project? – Your most handsome partner ever, Rhysand_  
_But it’s Saturday! And we only got set it yesterday!_  she fired back quickly.  
Perfectly on time as always, Mor came out of the bathroom. Mor grinned when she saw her roommate awake, “My hair dryer alarm clock still works!”  
Feyre rubbed her sleep filled eyes as she replied, “Yeah, but only just. I suppose it’s a good thing you blow-dry your hair at nearly exactly 10am every Saturday, because otherwise I don’t think I’d ever wake up.” Her phone pinged and she saw it was a response from Rhysand.  
_Oh, Feyre darling, I want it to be perfect, and the best way to do that is to start early ;) –Your most delightful partner ever, Rhysand_  
Feyre huffed as she typed her message back. He had a good point, and she knew how stubborn he was; he wouldn’t stop pestering her until she agreed to see him. _Okay, but I’m showering first. Where do you want to meet? And don’t call me “Feyre darling”_    
She got a reply instantly, _House of Wind, in an hour? – Your most spectacular partner ever, Rhysand_  
She shot him a quick _Okay_ then chucked her phone on the bed and grabbed her towel.  
“Who you going out to meet then?” Mor asked as Feyre made her way to the bathroom.  
“Guess!” Feyre called over her shoulder as she shut the door behind her, and got a reply of laughter through the closed door.

* * *

“Hey.” Feyre said somewhat flustered as she sat down next to Rhysand in the House of Wind. She had spent ages looking for the baggy red jumper that she wanted to wear to keep away January’s cold, and had to half run to the café.  
It was named the House of Wind because of the permanent drafts that the owners couldn’t be bothered to or didn’t have the money to fix. Instead they had hung up wind chimes all over the café, so it was always filled with gentle jingling sounds.  
“Well, look who decided to turn up.” Rhysand said sarcastically.  
“What!?” Feyre protested indignantly, “I’m only two minutes late!”  
“Yes, and I was here three minutes early, so I have been waiting for you for five minutes.” Rhysand replied coolly.  
Feyre looked at him incredulously “You can’t seriously be annoyed at me for you being early?”  
Rhysand just ignored her. She picked up her bag and started to get ready to leave, “Okay, well this was a waste of time then-” but she was cut off by a peel of laughter.  
She looked back at Rhysand who was grinning that damn grin. “Was I really that believable?” He asked, his face was lit up with victory, “You should’ve seen your reaction! You’re quick to anger, did you know that?” he asked sweetly, leaning on the table and propping his head in his hand. Feyre just stared at him in confusion.  
And then it clicked. She sat back in her chair, understanding blooming on her face, “You do drama with Mor, I completely forgot.”  
“And I’m the best too.” He said, winking at her. Feyre just sighed. She could already tell what Mor meant by him being insufferable.

“Do you want anything?” Rhysand asked, interrupting her thoughts. Feyre snapped out of her day dream and grabbed the purse out of her bag. When Rhysand saw what she was doing, he stopped her and said “Please, it’s on me. You didn’t even want to come and meet me so this can make it up to you.”  
Feyre looked at him quizzically, purse still in hand, “Are you sure?”  
She and Rhys hadn’t spoken since everything happened, and to be honest she didn’t understand why he was being so nice to her, but he nodded earnestly, and she wasn’t going to turn down a free drink.  
“In that case a hot chocolate and a soft pretzel please.” She said, smiling at him.  
"Coming right up.” He said with a flourish and yet another wink. _He really loves to be overly dramatic doesn’t he?_ Feyre thought to herself as she watched him join the end of the queue. Feyre smiled and thought back to a year and a half ago, when Mor had first introduced her to the group that she’d met at a drama workshop she had gone to for two weeks at the beginning of summer.  
It was a miracle that they had all managed to stay together by getting into Prythian University. But Feyre’s smile faltered as she remembered she wasn’t part of that group anymore, not since Tamlin happened anyway.  
Feyre was startled out of her daydream as Rhysand placed her hot chocolate in front of her. He put her pretzel down too before unloading his own meal and returning the tray to the counter.  
Feyre realised he had gotten her whipped cream and marshmallow’s too, even though she hadn’t asked for them. She has just spooned a mound of cream into her mouth when he sat down again. “Thanks for the extras.” She said, lifting another spoonful of cream towards him as if she were making a toast.  
But for once he didn’t smile back. “I thought you could use a treat. I looked over to you and you looked… deflated.”  
Feyre’s smile broke a bit, she’d never taken notice what she looked like when her thoughts wandered to Tamlin before. She plastered on a weak smile before answering. “Yeah I’m fine, was just thinking about some stuff.”  
She could tell Rhysand wasn’t buying it and she looked down at her drink. He shifted in his seat and started to say her name but she cut him off in astonishment, “Hey, I just realised you only got me white marshmallows.” She looked up to see him looking the most embarrassed and flustered she had ever seen. Embarrassment wasn't something that Rhysand really experienced, so though it wasn't much, the emotion revealed a lot.  
He leaned away from the table against his chair and rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah I remembered that you don’t like the pink ones. You said that you don’t like how the pink ruins the white of the mugs, cream and other marshmallows.”  
Feyre was stunned that he remembered, and asked him how he did. Before, Rhysand had been looking down at his own coffee, but now he looked up and met Feyre’s eyes. “We did used to be friends, remember?”  
Then it was Feyre’s turn to look away. Embarrassed and ashamed she whispered, “I’m still sorry about what happened, I wish I could go back and do it differently but…” she trailed off.  
“What did happen Feyre? None of us know except Mor.” She looked up and met his sad, pleading eyes.  
She smiled weakly. “Tamlin happened.”

* * *

Rhysand’s eyes hardened as she said that monsters name. He had never liked him, and disliked him even more when he set his sights on Feyre. “What did he do to you?” he demanded, his voice low and steely.  
But Feyre just shook her head, “No, no- it doesn’t really matter-” She cut off when she felt his hands gripping hers. Rhysand knew that she needed someone, even if she said she didn’t, even though he knew she had Mor. And _he_ wanted to be that person, he wanted to be her friend again.  
Feyre looked at his warm, gentle hands engulfing her own, and she rested her other on top of his. Somehow, even after everything, Rhysand was still there for her. She knew she owed him the truth at least for that.  
Her grey eyes met his and to the first person except Mor, she opened up.  
“Mor introduced us after you two met the other three at that drama camp, and I thought I was going to be an awkward sixth-wheel to your friendship group but you-who I had been dying to meet after all the stories from Mor by the way-Cassian and Azriel took me in instantly.”  
Feyre grinned at the memory of Cassian picking her up into a twirling hug the first time he met her. “Especially Cassian. Amren took a bit longer but soon we were close friends too. I was so, so happy that all of us had gotten into Prythian, I thought that it was going to be like four years of that summer we had. And it was at the very start, but then Lucien introduced me to Tamlin.”  
Rhysand gripped her hand tighter when she said Tamlin’s name, she knew that their family had some sort of feud. She looked down because she knew she wouldn’t get through this if she was looking into those deep, somber eyes. “Honestly? At first he was amazing. He took me on dates and proudly introduced me to his friends and made me feel like I was special. But I-… I didn’t realise what he was doing. I didn’t realise he was slowly isolating me from all of you except Mor. He would tell me that going out without him made him worried and if I ever went out anyway, he would be so angry at me. He always made me seem like the bad guy, so I just stopped going anywhere unless it was with him. Mor tried to tell me what was happening but I didn’t believe her, I just told her that he cared about me. Until one day I passed Cassian in one of the halls and when I smiled at him he acted as if he didn’t know me, which I suppose he didn’t really anymore.”  
“Cassian took it pretty hard when you stopped talking to all of us,” Rhysand murmured, “we all did.”

  
Feyre smiled sadly. “I know I lost a group of amazing friends, and it made me sad and angry at myself that I had let it happen. And then Tamlin would get angry at me for being sad because I had him, and he was all I ever needed. I was... I was scared Rhysand.”  
She glanced into his violet eyes before returning her gaze to their still joint hands, Rhysand running a thumb reassuringly over her knuckles. “He had never hit me before, but in previous arguments he had hit walls or thrown things, and I didn’t know what would be the breaking point to when he would turn his violence on me. So I cowered and stayed and cried every night until one of the times, just before we broke up for the summer, Mor heard me and woke up. She came over to me and I just broke down and told her everything.”  
Rhys was silent for a couple moments before asking quietly “He’s the reason you lost so much weight isn’t he?”  
Feyre hadn't known that Rhysand had paid enough attention to her to realise, but she nodded, “Over the summer Tamlin went back home and Mor helped me get back my strength – physically and mentally. I asked her to not tell any of you because I didn’t want you guys to get involved in my crap and I just wanted Tamlin gone and out of my life, but I knew you guys would never forgive him. In September, with Mor there so he couldn’t lose it, I broke it off with him.”  
“But it didn’t end there.” Rhysand said. His heart was breaking for this girl who had once been so dear to him.  
Feyre shook her head, finally raised her chin, and kept her gaze locked on his. “No. He kept cornering me, messaging me, calling me, telling me he was sorry, that he loved me, that he’d changed and would be different this time. Normally he finds me when I’m with people, but on Thursday when he got me in the elevator… I was terrified. When you showed up and intervened I was so relieved. You made me feel like I could breathe again when you came and leaned against the wall.”  
Feyre laughed dryly, “I haven’t checked my phone since our conversation this morning but I bet I’ll have messages from him.”  
She pulled away from Rhysand and reached into her bag to get her phone. “See?” Feyre handed it to him. On the screen there were eight notifications; five messages and three missed calls. All from the past hour.

  
“Feyre…” Rhysand whispered as he handed her phone back to her. “I… I honestly don’t know what to say.”  
“I don’t expect you to say anything.” She replied with a small smile. Telling the story hadn’t taken anywhere near as long as it had felt like, her hot chocolate and her pretzel were still warm so she turned her attention back to them before they got any colder. The pretzel was salty and was the perfect contrast to her overload-of-sweetness hot chocolate.  
Rhysand took a sip of his cooling coffee and spoke again. “What if you start dating someone? Maybe that’ll make him finally back off?” Rhysand thought it was a reasonable suggestion, so was confused when Feyre scoffed and started laughing bitterly.  
“Of course I would have to use another man’s claim on me to deter him instead of just 'I’m not interested'.”  
Rhysand bit his lip and nodded his head slowly, “Okaaaaaay, it’s understandable why you don’t like that idea. But if it works would it be worth it?”  
A couple moments passes before Feyre responded quietly. “I don’t think I’m ready for another relationship Rhysand.”  
“Feyre please, call me Rhys.” He told her, taking her hand again. And then he grinned. “Why don’t you get into a fake relationship?”  
“A what?” Feyre questioned, somewhat confused.  
“A fake relationship! Don’t actually go out with someone, just pretend you are.”  
“Tamlin won’t believe it unless he sees me with someone.”  
“So get someone who will be in on it with you.” Rhys said mischievously.  
“Oh, so you then?” Feyre said sarcastically, but now she was smiling at the ridiculous idea if it.  
“Well Feyre darling, I know that I’m irresistible but I didn’t expect you to be so forward.” He purred. Rhysand was joking, but he knew he would agree to it in a heartbeat if it meant keeping Tamlin away from her. Though it had been so long since he had spoken to Feyre, he had never stopped caring about her.  
Feyre grinned at him but shook her head. “Thanks but I’ll pass on your offer. Tamlin will get it into his head eventually.”


	4. The Beginning

Sunday morning Feyre’s alarm went off at 8, and she hurried to turn it off as Mor groaned in annoyance at being woken up. Mor was a light sleeper so what was just enough to wake Feyre up, startled her into alertness.   
Most people though that Saturday was a ‘doing’ day and that Sunday was a relaxing day, but Feyre always did it the other way around. After a week of lessons she wanted to have one day just doing nothing; then when Sunday comes around you can get active again to warm up for the week ahead.   
Feyre got dressed as quietly and as quickly as she could, tugging on her trainers as she hopped out the door. Sunday mornings were the best for running because most people were still asleep, so the streets and the campus were mostly deserted.

Except this time, apparently.   
Ten minutes into her run, Feyre heard someone jogging behind her. At first she thought nothing of it, but another ten minutes and three turns later, they were still right behind her.   
Feyre threw a glance over her shoulder, her stomach plummeting when she saw who it was. The jogger had been watching her closely, so of course noticed when she looked back at them.  
Tamlin lengthened his strides until he was running next to Feyre, then suddenly cut her off, making her stop in her tracks. “Feyre!” He exclaimed in faux surprise, “What a nice surprise to see you here! I had no idea it was you I was running behind!”   
“What do you want Tamlin?” Feyre asked calmly, breathing heavily. She still wasn’t back to her fitness level before she started dating Tamlin, but going for a run every week was slowly building it back up.   
“I just wanted to finish off our conversation from the other day, before we were so rudely interrupted.” He gave what Feyre supposed was meant to be a charming grin. To her he looked more like a hyena.   
“There’s nothing more to say Tamlin.” She said in answer, attempting to step around him so she could continue her run.   
But Tamlin grabbed her arm and growled at her “Our conversations are over when I say they’re over, not when you do.”   
Feyre’s heartbeat jumped in fear, and blurted without even thinking “We can’t get back together because I’m with someone else.”   
His grip on her arm slackened in surprise as he let out an involuntary “What?”  
Feyre took the chance to wrench her arm free. “Who?” He demanded.   
“Rhysand. The guy from the lift. On Friday we met up after English and something just… clicked.” Feyre was cursing herself that the fake relationship was the first thing she thought of to get herself out of the situation. Tamlin was still staring at her in shock, uncomprehending what she just told him.   
Feyre took it as he chance to make her escape. “Goodbye, Tamlin.” She said as she took a couple steps backwards and span round, taking off at a speed that was faster than her normal, but not so fast that it seemed like she was running away from him. 

She didn’t bother finishing her run, instead she took the fastest route back to her dorm, eager to be back in the safety of her room. After a quick shower she called Rhys. It was only nine in the morning so she wasn’t really expecting him to pick up, but surprisingly, he did.   
“Hello?” He answered in a sleepy, muffled voice.   
“Hey Rhys, its Feyre.” She half whispered as she slid out of her room and closed the door behind her. She leaned against the light blue wall and pulled her jumper more tightly around her; it was cold in the hallway with wet hair.  
“Feyre darling,” Rhysand drawled, sounding instantly more alert. “What a lovely voice to wake up to.”   
Feyre ignored his comment and got straight to it. “Rhys I may or may not have done a possibly stupid thing.”   
He didn’t respond for a couple of moments before saying, “You’re going to have to elaborate a bit more than that, Feyre.” He prodded, an amused tone to his voice. Feyre ran a hand down her face and made herself just say it all at once. “I was on a run this morning and Tamlin followed me and stopped me and pestered me again and to get him to stop I told him that we were dating and have been since Friday.” The line was silent for a couple seconds until she heard odd noises coming from Rhysand’s end. The noise got a bit louder and she realised it was him attempting not to laugh so that he wouldn’t wake Cassian up. “Rhysand!” She hissed, “Stop laughing! What are we meant to do?”   
When Rhys calmed down enough to speak he said, “There isn’t anything else to do other than to pretend to be dating, unless you want other people to tell him that it’s not true and then he’ll just be back on your case.”   
Feyre didn’t respond for a few moments before finally saying “You better be the best damn fake boyfriend ever.”   
Rhysand chuckled softly in reply, “Oh Feyre darling,” he purred, “I’m the best at everything.”


	5. Kiss Me Here

Though they had confirmed their ‘dating’ status, Feyre and Rhysand didn’t see each other until their Monday morning English lecture.  
Feyre sat down in her usual seat and doodled in her notebook until Mr. Suriel decided to start. Feyre felt someone sit down beside her just as Mr. Suriel began talking. Rhysand shuffled closer to her, until their shoulders were touching. “So, dear girlfriend of mine,” He whispered to her, keeping his eyes on the lecturer ahead, “how did we get into this relationship?”  
“I told Tamlin that we hung out after English and something just clicked.” Rhys nodded slowly, “So what did Mor say when you told her?” he asked.  
Feyre’s eyes widened with panic, “Shit, I completely forgot to tell her. But I haven’t told her about us ‘clicking’ either and I was with her for most of the weekend.” Feyre was feeling anxious about their ‘relationship’ falling apart before they had even been ‘together’ for a whole day.  
“Relax Feyre,” Rhys murmured to her, “just say we were ‘seeing each other’ but only made it official today, and you didn’t want to tell her until it was definitely happening.” Feyre nodded, calming down instantly. If this was the one way to get Tamlin to leave her alone for good, she wanted it to work. “Just so I know, what are the rules in this relationship?” Rhysand asked, and Feyre shrugged in response.  
“There aren’t any, just don’t be a dick. Oh, and don’t kiss me.” Feyre wasn’t prepared to have that privacy invaded by something that wasn’t real.  
“No kissing anywhere or?” Rhys asked genuinely, wanting to know what his boundaries were.  
Feyre shook her head, “Just not the lips.”  
Rhysand gave her a sidelong glance, and this time asked playfully, “Which lips?” raising his eyebrows suggestively at her. Feyre shot him a dirty look.

Rhysand thought that he might as well find out how she reacted when he  _did_ kiss her, so he did something he had wanted to do that entire summer. As she turned back to the front of the room Rhysand leaned towards her and whispered even more quietly in her ear, “So does that mean I can kiss you here?”  
Before Feyre could say anything she felt his lips press lightly to her jawbone. She froze, the brush of his lips sending a shiver through her body.  
“Or here?” He whispered again, travelling slightly further down and pressing a kiss on to her neck.  
“Mr Rhysand.” A stern voice called out. Rhys removed his lips from Feyre and looked towards the front of the classroom, to all the 30 something students staring at them.  
“Yes, Mr. Suriel?” He called back in a calm reply, while Feyre burned red like fire next to him.  
“I would much prefer it if you kept that kind of behaviour outside of lecture and seminar time thank you.”  
“Of course sir.” Rhysand answered nonchalantly, leaning into his chair and putting his arm around the back of Feyre’s. Rhysand didn’t touch Feyre for the rest of the lecture, he didn't trust himself too. His mind kept wondering back to when the feeling of her skin against his lips. Little did he know that Feyre couldn't get the kiss out of her head either.  
She hadn’t been kissed so gently in so long, and she couldn’t take her mind off of what that meant about her and Tamlin’s relationship before they broke up. He never kissed her like that, not once.

When the lecture had finished and everyone was gathering their stuff together Rhysand said to her in a low voice, “You can’t tell anyone about this relationship being fake okay? Not even Mor. I know you trust her and so do I, but things have ways of getting out.” Feyre nodded in understanding, it was a fair enough point.  
Once they had left the room Rhysand grabbed Feyre’s hand and pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on top of her head. At first she froze at the unexpected contact, but he was warm and gentle, and she wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’ve got Latin now, but I’ll see you later okay?”   
Before she had the chance to reply Rhys pulled away and picked up her hand. He brushed his lips lightly across her knuckles, smirked at her, and then sauntered away.  
Walking in the opposite direction to go to the House of Wind for a couple hours before her art lesson started, Feyre thought to herself _What have I gotten myself into?_

* * *

Rhysand was still grinning from embarrassing Feyre in English as he walked into his Latin lesson. As soon as he took his seat Azriel said to him “I hope you realise that by the end of this lesson Cassian will have found out about you and Feyre and will be waiting to interrogate you as soon as you walk out the door.”  
Rhys looked at him in slight awe, “How do you already know?” he asked, genuinely surprised. English had only ended a couple minuets ago, and Azriel doesn’t chase after gossip like so many of the small university’s students do.  
Rhys swore that Az could one day play James Bond with his English accent, good looks and ability to always know everything. Azriel just smiled, not having to reply as Madame Amarantha started the seminar, and cauldron forbid she caught you doing anything other than work.

As Azriel predicted, Cassian was leaning against the wall by the door to the classroom, and as soon as Rhysand walked out the door, he clapped him on the back. “So, you and Feyre huh? How did this happen then? And why am I only just hearing about it now?” Cassian said it all with a grin, but Rhysand knew that his roommate was a little hurt by the fact that Rhys hadn’t told him before the rest of the small university did.  
Rhysand smiled at his friend, but instead of answering him, said “Firstly, how did you find out?”  
“Mor text me, she overheard people in her law class talking about it.” Cassian explained. “Now come on, Rhys, how did you score that pretty little lady?” Cassian urged, a wink in his voice.  
“After what happened on Thursday, I asked her if she wanted to hang out after English on Friday. She said yes and something just clicked.” Rhysand replied, a soft smile on his face.  
“But we haven’t found out until three days later becaaaauuuuse…?” Cassian drew out, still unsatisfied with the answer.  
“We only made it official today, we didn’t want to tell anyone if it wasn’t going to work out.”  
“And what about Tamlin?” Mor asked, suddenly appearing beside the trio.  
Rhysand stiffened at the name. “What about him, exactly?” he questioned coolly.  
“He doesn’t exactly leave Feyre alone.”  
“Well he’s just going to have to now isn’t he? And if he doesn’t I’m sure I can handle him.” Rhysand said, a dangerous edge to his voice. Cauldron be damned if that prick went anywhere near Feyre again.


	6. Because I Missed You

Art was Feyre’s favourite subject, and her best. Art meant you could express yourself to every extent, meant you could share your visions with the world and create places most people have never even dreamt of. It brought colour and excitement and meaning into the world.  
_That_ was why Feyre loved art. Canvas at the ready, with all her paints out, she had just sat down when Lucien came up to her. “I heard about you and Rhysand.” He said casually, without so much as a ‘hello’.  
Not willing to be wholly distracted, Feyre continued with her painting as she replied, “What about us?”  
“Just that you’re together. Tamlin thought you were lying when you told him, he wasn’t happy when he started hearing it from other people.”  
Feyre clenched her jaw. She knew Lucien didn’t mean any harm, he was a good guy and was probably only talking to her because Tamlin had asked him to. But he had seen exactly what Tamlin was doing to her and hadn’t tried to stop it, something she didn’t think she’d ever forgive him for.  
“Well it doesn’t matter what Tamlin thinks does it? It doesn’t have anything to do with him.”  
Lucien sighed, “I know that Feyre, just… Just be careful.”  
Feyre turned her head and eyed him up in suspicion. “Be careful of what, exactly?”  
“Of Rhysand, I don’t want you to get hurt.” He said it earnestly and Feyre knew that he meant it, but she still scoffed at his words.  
“Don’t want me to get hurt like how Tamlin hurt me?” She turned back to her painting, dismissing him. Lucien opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, but thought better of it and left.  
Feyre didn’t want to think about Tamlin, didn't want him to plague her thoughts while she was doing something she loved so much.  
So she let herself get drawn into the marble pillared villa built into the mountainside.   
Felt the soft breeze of the swirling night sky.   
Smelt the faint salt of the sea as she threw herself into her painting.

* * *

 The first thing that Feyre saw when she opened the door to her room was the back of Mor sat in her desk chair. “Um, hey Mor.” Feyre said cautiously as she shut the door behind her. When the door clicked shut Mor slowly swivelled round, elbows propped on the arms of the chair, fingers pressed together, as if she were a Russian Mafia leader. Laughing nervously at the blonde girl Feyre said, “I know you do drama, but this is a bit much don’t you think?”  
Mor just continued looking sternly at her roommate. “Okaaay…” Feyre drew out awkwardly, “I’m assuming you’ve heard about me and Rhys-” before she could even finish his name, Mor burst into life.  
She hurtled a pillow at Feyre while yelling “How did you not tell me about him before! How did you just fail to mention that you guys hung out and have been a thing since Friday!?”  
“Okay, okay, I can see why you’re annoyed.” Feyre said, tossing the pillow back onto Mor’s bed. She just kept glaring. “We were ‘seeing’ each other, but I didn’t want to tell you until it was official in case we decided not to after all.”  
Mor kept her steely gaze on her roommate and replied, “I know, Rhys told me, Cassian and Azriel earlier.”  
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier Mor, but that’s genuinely why.”  
Mor glared at her for a couple moments more before sighing. “I suppose I can forgive you.” She wheeled herself back to her desk and Feyre grinned.  
“So you’re not grossed out by the fact that I’m dating your childhood friend?” She asked as she went to sit on her own  bed.  
Mor grimaced, “Well it kind of weirds me out because you’re a gorgeous, mature, independent woman-”  
“People would think that you’re the one dating me.” Feyre interjected, a wink in her voice.  
“-and I can remember Rhysand at the age when he thought saying ‘poop’ was funny.” Mor continued, unfazed by Feyre’s comment, but Feyre just continued to smile. “Every kid goes through a phase of thinking poo is funny, you can’t fault him for that.”  
“But on a serious note Feyre, do you think you’re ready for a relationship after Tamlin?” Mor asked softly.  
Tamlin had held her back for too long, so if this is what it took for Feyre to shake him, she was going to do it, and said confidently, “Yeah. Yeah I am.”

* * *

A week flew by and Feyre and Rhysand kept up the façade incredibly well. Especially Rhysand, though Feyre was expecting that considering he did drama. They sat next to each other in English, even though Monday’s and Thursday’s weren’t about their project. Rhysand would always kiss Feyre on the cheek upon greeting and kiss her knuckles goodbye, though it had turned from a grand gesture with a bow to something it seemed he did for just for himself – exactly how a relationship should be.  
Feyre occasionally pressed kisses to his cheeks, or his neck when they were stood up and she couldn’t reach. They rarely saw each other after the day had finished; Feyre didn’t want to take it that far, and when Mor asked her why she wasn’t over at Rhysand’s dorm, she told her she had work to do. When they were together, they were with Rhysand’s drama circle; Mor, Cassian, Azriel and Amren.  
Cassian welcomed her back instantly, and so did Azriel, but Amren was still wary. She didn’t want to get used to Feyre being back for her to just leave again, which had hurt Amren more than the others knew.  
The following Tuesday, Feyre didn’t see Rhysand once. Her first class wasn’t until 10 so she always had a lie in, Rhys didn’t have a lesson until 12, and then she spent lunch with her sister Elain.  
Though she didn’t see him, Rhysand texted her throughout the day, horrifically cheesy things like _You make my world go round_ with all the earth emoji’s. They made Feyre laugh and cringe, and when she asked him why he did it he said it was so if anyone saw the message they wouldn’t doubt his affection for her.  
With a winky face on the end.  
Naturally.  
_Don’t you think some of these are a bit intense considering we’ve only been fake-dating officially for a week?_ She asked him once during art.  
_FAKE-DATING? :o Oh, Feyre, you hurt my feelings so :’(_ was his instant reply.  
As art ended and drama began she got one final text from Rhys, _Talk to you later sweetheart ;)_ and Feyre thought she felt herself die a little inside from the horrendousness of it.  
But she was smiling, and she realised she hadn't smiled so much in so long as she made her way back to her room to read _The Picture of Dorian Gray_ and wait for Mor to get back.

* * *

Morrigan was startled to see Feyre lying on her bed, absorbed in a book when she got back to their room. She did it every Tuesday, but Mor thought that Feyre would be at Rhysand’s dorm, and said as much. “I thought you’d have gone to Rhysand’s by now considering you haven’t seen him all day.” She said in way of greeting swinging her bag onto her bed before walking over to their mini fridge at the back of the room.  
Mor’s voice pulled Feyre away from her book and she stumbled out “Oh, I, uh- I was waiting for you to get back so I would know that you were definitely done.” She hoped that she had sounded convincing, but by how Mor was eyeing her, she wasn’t so sure that she had been.  
She grabbed her jacket and whizzed out the door before Mor could say anything else that would put her in panic mode. As soon as she was out the dorm house Feyre called Rhys.  
“Hello, Feyre darling.” He purred down the line, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”  
“Mor asked me why I hadn’t gone to see you considering I haven’t seen you all day, so I freaked out and told her I was going over now.”  
There was a brief pause before Rhys said in a low seductive tone, “Of course you can come over Feyre,” and she heard someone cheer in the background. Cassian, no doubt.  
“Do you remember which dorm I’m in?”  
“The Night House? Same as last year? Well I hope so anyway because I’m outside.”  
Rhysand chuckled lightly before replying, “I’ll been down in a second.”  
As soon as the door opened to reveal Rhysand, Feyre’s mouth opened to apologise. “I’m sorry that I just suddenly sprang this on you-” he cut her off,  
“Feyre you don’t need to apologise, we’re friends anyway. Plus it means that I have something to do tonight.” He finished suggestively. Feyre walked into the dorm, glaring at him for his innuendo, but it just encouraged him to smirk.  
“What do you want to do tonight?” Rhys asked genuinely, leading her through the common room of the dorm house into a corridor. “I don’t know, watch a movie or something? I don’t know what else there is to do.”  
“Probably the best idea, unless you want to have a go on the gaming consoles in the main room.” Feyre blanched at the idea, she had always been terrible at video games.  
“I think I’ll pass.” She said as Rhys opened the door to his room and strode in.

It didn’t stink of boy as she had thought it would have, but rather it smelled faintly of citrus and the sea. The room was set out the same as hers and Mor’s.  
The right hand side was minimalistic and simple, everything black, white, or a deep, dark purple. The walls were decorated with minimalist posters of various plays, and a shelf above the desk held numerous classics.  
The left side, on the other hand, had burnt orange sheets, with no posters save one of the movie _Pulp Fiction_ , and pieces of paper with various maths equations and diagrams. There was even a wheel-able whiteboard at the back of the room.  
It wasn’t difficult for Feyre to figure out whose side was whose. Plus the fact that as she walked through the door, Cassian picked up a duffel bag from the orange bed, and headed towards them. “Have fun you two.” He said, winking at them as he left.  
“Where is he going?” Feyre asked as the door shut behind him, kicking off her shoes before wandering towards Rhysand’s bed to sit down.  
“I told him you were coming over and basically told him to get lost, so he’s going to the gym with Azriel.”  
“They’re going to think that we’re going to have sex.” Feyre stated, somewhat uneasily. “That’s why he winked at us isn’t it?”  
Rhysand looked at her curiously, “Feyre, we’re meant to be in a relationship, what’s wrong with that?”  
“Well, we’ve only been ‘together’ for five days, just seems a bit sudden.”  
“He doesn’t genuinely think that, he just likes to tease you, always has, remember?” Rhys said. Which was completely true, Cassian has ceaselessly teased her throughout their entire friendship. “And anyway, Cassian would never judge you for it, neither would anyone else in our little inner circle. I think you worry too much.” He stated, shaking his head. He could practically feel the tension coming off of her, though he couldn’t understand why. Having sex with him couldn’t be that bad could it?  
Feyre was quiet for a few moments before asking “Rhysand, why did you offer to pretend to be my boyfriend?” She couldn’t figure out why he would be willing to, they hadn’t spoken in over a year and had only become friends again because of the Tamlin incident.  
Rhysand looked at her, bewildered by her question. “How could I not Feyre? If it got him to leave you alone, of course I would.”  
“But why?” she pressed further, diving into his violet eyes. They were such a magnificent, peculiar colour, Feyre itched to paint them.  
Rhysand sat down on the bed across from her “Because over that summer you became one of my closest friends. Because I didn’t like Tamlin even before you started dating but I never told you to be careful. Because when you started drifting away I didn’t hold onto you as tightly as I should have. Because even though I could see your relationship was damaging you, I didn't do anything about it. Because on Thursday you seemed so scared and on Saturday you looked so broken after telling me everything. Because I wanted to- had to make up for abandoning you.”  
Feyre watched his anguished face, and felt her still shattered heart pull itself together a little. She had no idea that Rhys cared about her so much. He swallowed before he said at last, “And because I missed you, Feyre.” A small smile grew on her face as happiness flushed through her.  
It felt so strange and wonderful to have someone want to protect her so much in a genuinely nice way. Tears pricked the back of her eyes but she didn’t let them spill, “I missed you too Rhys.”  
He smiled softly at her before saying “So what movie do you want to watch?”  
Her smile broadened. “Something funny.”  
“Deadpool?” Rhys suggested.  
Feyre cocked her head at him, “I didn’t take you as a Marvel kind of guy.”  
“Yeah, neither did I, but Cassian makes watch them, and I’ve grown to enjoy them.” Rhysand stood and walked over to the whiteboard against the back wall. He grabbed the edge of the board and with a grin, said to the golden-brown haired girl before him “Now for the real surprise.” Before pulling the board to Cassian’s side of the room with a flourish.  
“You have a TV!?” Feyre exclaimed. They weren’t meant to have too many items of technology in their dorms because it supposedly distracted them from study, and because Prythian was a well-known, hard-to-get-into university, they wanted their students to do well. It was why TV’s and consoles were confined to common rooms.  
Rhysand had started to set up his laptop and plugged in the HDMI cable, and said to Feyre in a very blasé tone “Yeah, we just put the white board in front of it if we aren’t using it and no one has ever noticed.” Rhysand clicked play and walked over to his bed. “I call the corner by the way.” He said, crawling over Feyre and squeezing himself into the gap between her and the wall, forcing her to move over.  
His heart was pounding and he willed it to slow, but knew it wouldn’t. He couldn’t quite fully believe that Feyre was in his dorm room, that she was sat on his bed, so close to him, about to watch a movie.  
He looked over to her and took in her face, softy illuminated by the light from the TV. He felt his heart melt and constrict and only once they were there, alone, did he realise that he had never fully lost his feeling for Feyre. And he hoped that even after this fake dating was over, that she would still be a part of his life.

Half way through the movie Cassian threw the door open and flicked the lights on, but what he saw wasn’t Rhysand and Feyre sat next to each other watching a movie perfectly innocently. As soon as Rhysand had heard the handle turn, he had turned to Feyre, burying his face in neck and placing a hand half way down and on the inside of her thigh. He wasn’t in that position for very long because a split second after the lights had been turned on, but long enough that Cassian had definitely seen them, he pulled away.  
But Feyre froze, and didn’t even cringe away from the sudden brightness as Rhys did. She stayed frozen for a couple seconds more, not hearing the teasing from Cassian. She jumped off of the bed and yanked her shoes on, saying “I’m really sorry but I really have to go, I’ll see you tomorrow Rhysand.”  
She brushed past Cassian who was still stood near the doorway, Rhysand’s calls to her were fuzzy as she hurried down the hallway and out of the building and burst into the cool night air. She only managed to walk a couple of metres away from the entrance before she had to lean against a wall, forcing herself to take deep breaths and to calm down calm down calm down.  
Once her breathing and her heart rate had gone back to normal she continued back to her own dorm, and checked her phone, to see that nearly 20 minutes had passed and messages from Rhysand.  
_Feyre are you okay?_  
_What happened, you just suddenly ran out, what’s wrong?_  
_Do you need me to come and find you?_  
 _Feyre?_  
 _Please tell me you’re okay x_  
She quickly messaged him back saying she was fine, just remembered something that she had to deal with, and that she was sorry that she left so suddenly. He replied instantly  
_That’s okay, I just needed to know that you were safe_  
She texted him G _oodnight_ as she came up to her dorm house door. She swiped her card to unlock the door and creeped quietly past the kitchen where she could hear Mor talking to Amren.  
Leaving her trackies and top on, only bothering to remove her shoes and bra, she climbed into bed, and didn’t move until she woke up the next day.


	7. Just a Little Space

Throughout the whole of Wednesday Feyre avoided Rhys – which wasn’t very difficult because until 11:30 she worked at the Hybern Activity Centre, a twenty minute drive away.   
When Nesta had learnt how to drive, she had gotten a Ford Fiesta, and considering she didn’t use it that much because most things in Prythian City were in walking distance, she had agreed to let Elain use it when she passed her test.   
And when Feyre passed hers, Nesta begrudgingly accepted the fact that she was going to use it too.  
Now, Feyre drove it to the activity centre where she helped out with archery.  
At 11:30 Feyre didn’t check her phone as she had an early lunch.  
At 11:40 Feyre didn’t check her phone as she left Hybern to get back to the university.  
At 12:00 Feyre didn’t check her phone as she made her way up to the art room to have peace and quiet while everyone else bustled around the cafeteria or nearby cafés.   
At 3:00 Feyre didn’t check her phone when her art lesson ended and she made her way to classic civilisation.   
But she did look up at Amren when the small girl slammed her hand into the table she was sat at.   
“What the hell is wrong with you?” She hissed, her stormy eyes, both from colour and anger, cut into Feyre.   
“Rhysand has been trying to get hold of you, so has Mor and Cassian when he told them that you haven’t spoken to him all day and how you ran out last night.”   
Feyre gapped, not knowing what to say. She didn’t think about how this would affect Rhysand, only that she needed some distance.   
“He has let you back into his life, do not abandon him again.” Amren said coldly, sweeping off to her own seat.  
  
At the end of the seminar, Feyre pulled out her phone, expecting to see dozens of texts and missed calls.   
But then she remembered, this was Rhys, not Tamlin. The only messages she had from Rhys were ones saying:   
_Good morning Feyre, I hope you’re feeling better x  
Do you want to meet up for lunch?_   
And _Do you want to come over tonight?_   
She did have a couple texts and a missed call from Tamlin as well, but she ignored those.   
_I’m so sorry about today and yesterday Rhys, just something happened and I really needed some time to myself. I’m not ready to explain yet, but I will eventually. I didn’t think about how I left you with no explanation and how confused you must be._   
She messaged him back, knowing it wasn’t a good enough apology, but she couldn’t bring herself to explain quite yet.   
He messaged back instantly,  
_I just don’t understand what’s happening Feyre. I lost you once, I don’t want to lose you again._   
She didn’t reply.

* * *

Feyre didn’t want to go back to her room and face Mor, who was no doubt going to pepper her with questions about what was going on. Instead she went to the library to work on the essay she had been set in classical civilisation about the development of medicine in ancient Greece. After much researching and note taking, she finally headed over to Elain’s dorm, the Autumn House, where she met her and Nesta every Wednesday for dinner.   
They nominated Elain to be the host of their weekly dinners because she was the best cook out of the sisters by far. Elain made them spaghetti bolognaise and Feyre ate as much as she could.   
The sisters knew it made Elain happy when it was obvious they liked what she had made. Plus she just really liked spaghetti bolognaise.   
Half way through dinner Elain turned to her, “So, Feyre,” she began excitedly, “I’ve heard about you and Rhysand!”   
But apparently Nesta hadn’t.   
Spluttering on a mouthful of bolognaise Nesta blurted out a surprised “What!?”  
“Yeah,” Feyre said tentatively, “we started dating on Friday, but it wasn’t official until Monday.”   
“Does this mean that I’m going to have to start seeing that brute agai-”   
“No. Nesta.” Feyre cut her off sharply, an edge to her voice, “You do not have to see Cassian if you don’t want to.”  
“Anyway,” Elain said loudly, trying to diffuse the tension between her two sisters before it grew larger, “how did it happen? Between you and Rhysand?”   
Feyre tore her eyes away from her coldest sister and looked towards the more gentle one, “I saw him at dad’s office on Thursday, then on Friday we got paired to do an English project together. We hung out after the lesson and on Saturday to discuss it and something just clicked.”  
“Dad’s office?” Nesta said, baffled. “Why was he there?” The question caught Feyre off guard.   
“I- I don’t actually know.” When Rhysand had rescued her from Tamlin she had been so relieved she hadn’t asked him why he was there, and hadn’t thought about it since.  
“Riiiight, okay.” Nesta drew out, obviously unimpressed with the answer. Feyre quickly checked her phone for the time and saw it was already 8:45, and she had promised Mor ages ago that she’d be back by 9 so they would have time to watch a movie.   
“Thank you for dinner Elain, I have to go, I told Mor I’d be back soon.” She stood and took her plate to the sink before giving her sister a quick hug. “Bye Nesta.” She said in passing as she whizzed out the door.


	8. She is Mine

Thursday morning Mor acted much the same as she had with Feyre the night before; short answers with a bored, icy tone.  
Feyre knew that even though they watched a movie together last night, she was confused and annoyed at what happened between her and Rhys. Feyre may be her best friend, but Rhys was the closest family she had.   
Feyre couldn’t bring herself to tell Mor the full extent of the story, so she left her best friend without explanation, and hoped that she forgave her soon.  
English started at 11, so five minutes before Feyre reluctantly collected up her things and made her way to the lecture room.

* * *

Rhysand was already sat in his seat when she arrived. He was looking towards the front of the room but as soon as she entered his eyes darted to hers and she was instantly frozen in his violet gaze. Until someone bumped into her, jostling her out of her transfixion.  
She made her way over to her seat, and sat beside him. No kiss to her cheek upon arrival, though Feyre wasn’t really expecting any different.  
“Morning Feyre.” Rhys said in greeting, not once looking away From Mr. Suriel, who had just entered the room. She kept looking at him though, looking at the sharp cut of his jaw, the height of his cheekbones. Her eyes studied his long eyelashes, the raven black-blueness of his hair. They glanced over his soft lips, known by her from the kisses he had given.  
Rhysand had fast become one of her closest friends again, second only after Mor. They had reminisced on the summer they spent together and Feyre told him about all about her year with Tamlin, though avoided actually mentioning him. She had told him about the things she had done with her family and Mor, the arguments she’s had with Nesta and their damaged relationship.  
He had told her more about his home life, his little sister that he adored and the how his parents relationship wasn’t the best, even though they loved each other. She didn’t want to lose this person who she was so comfortable and found it so easy to confide in.  
So in way of a peace offering, the only thing she could think of in that moment, she leaned over and pressed her lips to his jaw. Subdued shock masked his face when he turned, his eyes flicking from hers, to her lips and back again.  
Rhysand had thought that she was going to end their ‘relationship’ after running out and ignoring him, which had bothered him more than he’d care to admit. Instead, she looked hopefully at him, waiting for his response. The kiss on his jaw tingled as he slipped his fingers through hers, encasing her hand in warmth. Keeping his eyes locked with hers, he brought her knuckles to his mouth and pressed a delicate kiss to them.  
“By the way,” Feyre whispered to him, “why were you at the Ashwood building? I never asked.”  
“I do work experience there.” He shrugged, relieved things had gone back to normal. “Often with your dad actually.”  
Feyre was taken aback. Mor, nor her dad had ever mentioned him working there. She pushed it out of her mind and tried to focus on the lecture, she didn’t need to worry about it right now.  
Rhysand didn’t want to let her hand go, so waited for her to pull away, but to his glee, she never did.

* * *

Another week passed but something between them had changed. Though Rhysand was his normal jokey self, he touched her the minimal amount he could, and when he did touch her, it was only ever her arms, or the sides of her waist. But even when he did this, his touch was so light it was barely there.  
But something else had changed as well. They found themselves holding hands or leaning on each other even when no one was there. Partially out of habit, partially because they wanted to. They found comfort in each other’s company, and the contact reminded them that there was someone who was always there for them.  
Rhysand knew he had all of his drama circle, and Feyre knew she had Mor, but it was different with each other, though neither of them could tell exactly why.

* * *

The next Thursday after English, Feyre walked Rhysand to drama.  
When she and Tamlin were together, he would sling his arm over his shoulder and pull him close to her. At first she thought he just wanted to keep in contact with her, but eventually she realised it was to pronounce her as his, and to make it harder for her to slip away.  
Rhysand never did that. He always held her hand, and if they were stood still he would sometimes move his arm so it was around her waist, hand resting lightly on her hip. He never pulled her towards him, and the position looked as if he was doing it because he wanted to be near her, not to show his possession of her.  
They reached the entrance to the drama building and Rhysand turned to Feyre to press a kiss to her temple. “The guy I work with today is on the same business trip as your dad, so I’ll see you at lunch?” he asked. Feyre nodded and he disappeared through the door.

* * *

Feyre sat at the House of Wind, finishing off the dregs of her hot chocolate as she continued reading _The Picture of Dorian Gray_. Though it was crisp with cold, the air was still and the sky was clear so Feyre had opted to sit on one of the outside tables. Her phone pinged and her stomach dropped for a second, as it always did, though she didn’t understand why anymore. It used to be because nearly all the messages she got were from Tamlin, but since she and Rhys had started ‘dating’ she was only getting about two or three a day, and no missed calls. A massive drop from the over ten a day, and at least five calls.  
She looked at her phone and saw she had a message from Rhys,  
_Where are you? X_  
_House of Wind x_ She replied.  
Within a minute a shadow appeared over her. “Jeez, that was quick-”, she started, cutting off when she turned around and saw who it really was.  
Tamlin smiled sweetly at her, “Expecting someone else?”  
“Why are you here, Tamlin?” Feyre said exasperatedly, looking around to see any means of escape.  
“I just want to talk about your relationship with that bastard Rhysand, so you can see that our one was better and make the right decision.” He said smugly, as if he was certain that it was going to work and was going to walk away with Feyre as his trophy.  
But Feyre‘s expression turned dark. Even only two weeks ago, when she was cornered by him, she was scared, but now, she was just so sick of his shit. “One,” Feyre began, her eyes stormy, her voice made of sharpened steel, “Rhysand is not a bastard in any sense of the word. Two, I do not love you anymore. I will never get back with you, Tamlin, not as long as there are people like Rhysand in the world.” And she knew she was telling the truth.  
Tamlin had been her first relationship, so she hadn’t realised how bad he had been treating her, but now, even with Rhys just pretending, she knew that Tamlin had treated her like a possession rather than a person.  
Tamlin let out a cruel laugh, “What? Do you think he’s better than me?” His eyes were full of rage, though he hadn’t acted on it yet. Feyre was his first, and she’ll stay his as long as he wants her.  
“No, Tamlin, I _know_ that he’s better than you.” The fear that he had been injecting into her life had been transformed into cold fury, “Now leave.” Tamlin stood up, but not to leave. He grabbed Feyre by the arm and yanked her out of her seat.  
He pulled her close to his face and seethed at her “I love you, Feyre, and you are mine.” He started to drag her away, but was stopped by someone.

Rhysand set his eyes on Tamlin, his expression thunderous, rage crackling off his body. “Let go of Feyre.” Rhysand growled at Tamlin, his body rigid. As soon as Rhysand had spotted Tamlin with Feyre, he had run over. No way in hell was he letting Tamlin hurt her anymore.  
Despite the murderous look in Rhysand’s eyes, Tamlin didn’t back down. “Feyre is coming with me.” He said back, standing straight and puffing out his chest to make himself look bigger, but Rhysand stood above him still, unmoved by the attempted show at dominance. “She is mine-”  
“Feyre, is not yours.” Rhysand cut in, his voice a knife. “Feyre does not belong to you, she does not belong to anyone, because she is a human being, not an object.” Feyre thought she could have fallen in love with him there and then. “Now. Let. Her. Go.”  
Tamlin hesitated then dropped her arm, glaring at Rhysand before leaving.  
Rhysand watched him go, and only when he disappeared around the corner did Rhysand turn his attention to Feyre. His thunderous expression had gone, now all that filled his eyes was worry.  
He stepped towards her and brushed some hair out of her face, almost afraid to touch her, “Are you okay?” he asked, searching her eyes.  
Feyre nodded and leaned into his hand on her cheek. “Did he hurt you?” he whispered.  
If he had done anything to her he was going to rip his- “Only when he grabbed me and pulled me out of my chair,” She felt him tense, “but it doesn’t even hurt anymore. Rhys don’t worry, it doesn’t matter.”  
He softened again when she said his name. Feyre had never seen him look so worried about her before. His eyes were scouring hers, looking for any sign of pain. He placed his other hand on her face, and brushed his thumbs on her cheeks. He leaned towards her and rested his forehead against hers. “Okay.” He said in defeat. “Okay.” He repeated.  
He pressed a kiss to her forehead and drew her into his arms, wrapping them protectively over her shoulders. He knew that she would just want to forget about it, so he would leave it until she was ready to talk or do anything about it.  
Feyre’s face nestled into the space just under his chin, her arms looping around his waist. She loved hugging Rhys, he was always so warm and soothing, she always felt safe. They hugged for a couple of moments before Rhys said from above her head, “Lunch?”  
They untangled themselves, but didn’t let go of each other’s hands as Feyre grabbed her book and bag before walking into the House of Wind.


	9. The Truth

After Classical Civilisation, Feyre walked back to her dorm, thinking about what had just happened. She was still slightly out of it after her incident with Tamlin at lunch, and she guessed it showed.  
Once Feyre had sat down, Amren came over to her and had asked if she was okay. Feyre had been surprised that Amren had come up to her, because she hadn’t exactly been the warmest to her since she joined the circle again.   
Feyre had said, “Yeah, just something happened with Tamlin that shook me a bit, but I’m okay now.” Amren nodded, and got up to leave, but Feyre stopped her.  
“Amren, why did you ask? You haven’t exactly seemed that keen to have me back, so why do you care?”   
Amren looked at the worn out girl in front of her evenly. “Feyre, I hated it when you stopped talking to us,” She finally responded, “just as much as everyone else. I just don’t want to get used to you being around to then leave again. And I’m not so easily forgiving as Rhys.” And then she left.  
Feyre hadn’t realised that Amren had cared that much, she didn’t think anyone in the circle had realised either. Amren was good at hiding her emotions, so they rarely knew to what extent she felt things.

* * *

Feyre got back to her dorm and changed into leggings and top that was covered in Van Gough’s _Starry Night_. She grabbed a coat and made her way over to the Night House, shooting Rhys a quick text saying she was coming.   
After they had lunch at the House of Wind, where they talked about anything other than what had just happened, Feyre asked Rhysand if she could come over after her last lesson of the day. He was a bit surprised considering what had happened last time, but he had said yes anyway.  
He opened the door for her when she arrived, and their hands found each other’s without even thinking. They walked past the common room where some of the other boys in the house were playing a game on the X-box, the noise of firing guns and explosions reaching their ears.  
 When they got to Rhysand’s room she let go of his hand to shrug off her coat and to kick her shoes off, before going to sit cross legged on his bed. Rhysand followed, sitting down across from her. “I want to explain to you what happened on that Tuesday. I’ve never told anyone this, not even Mor.” She stated.   
“Okay.” Rhysand said slowly, not wanting to discourage her from opening up, but also wanting her to know that she didn’t have to.   
She swallowed before starting. “I’ve already told you about how Tamlin used to get annoyed with me if I was sad or anything, and it kind of connected to that. In the latter half of our relationship, I didn’t want to, um, have sex with him so much anymore,” Feyre fumbled. It felt weird to talk about sex with Rhysand considering they were in a fake relationship. “I didn’t love him, and I didn’t want to do that with someone I didn’t have feelings for.” She continued.  
Rhysand didn’t say anything, just kept looking at her with soft eyes. “But of course I couldn’t say that to him, so instead I would tell him that I just wasn’t feeling it, that I didn’t want to. He- um, he wasn’t very happy whenever I said that.” Feyre let out a brittle laugh. “He would accuse me of not loving him, not finding him desirable or attractive anymore, or that I was cheating on him. All of which were true except the last one. He would try and kiss me anyway, or touch my waist and my hips.” Feyre’s voice trailed off at the memory of all those times she wanted to push him off.   
“Feyre,” Rhysand whispered, Feyre expected to see icy rage like she had earlier that day, and that was there, but it was buried beneath heartbroken eyes. “did he..?” he trailed off, not even wanting to say it.  
“No, no.” Feyre shook her head, and she saw some tension leave Rhysand’s body. Though Feyre didn’t seem to notice, Rhysand could feel himself shaking with anger, with hatred for this boy that was less than a rat to him. “But sometimes it was just easier to say yes.”   
With those words the memories came back in full force.   
She had never told Mor because she thought maybe if she didn’t say it out loud, it wouldn’t be true, even though she knew that was ridiculous. Her vision became blurry with tears, and they started to spill down her cheeks. “On that Tuesday when you put your hand on my thigh it just made me remember it so vividly, and I just had to get away because I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t talk to you because I needed to calm myself down, and needed some time to myself, you did nothing wrong.”  
Rhysand was quiet for a couple of moments before saying in a pained whisper, “I am so sorry Feyre.” He reached out and wiped away a tear that was falling down her cheek. “I am going to beat the shit out of that monst-” he began, but Feyre cut him off.   
“No you’re not Rhysand.” She gave him a small smile, “Because I am.” He let out a surprised laugh, and smiled at the beautiful girl in front of him. Beautiful despite her red eyed and blotchy face.   
He had always found her beautiful.   
“Do you want me to stop touching you and kissing you?” he asked tentatively.   
Feyre shook her head. “No, I like it when you touch me,” Feyre felt a blush rise to her cheeks, but Rhysand didn’t make a dirty comment like he normally would have, though he felt a flush of heat go through his body when she said it.   
He enjoyed kissing her and holding her, and liked it when she did it back, though he couldn’t help but feel guilty after what she had just told him.   
“It’s comforting to know I have someone there all the time, and you make me feel safe.” At that he wrapped his arms around her Feyre, and pulled her onto his lap as he leaned back against his headboard. He wrapped one arm over her waist, the other behind her back, hands resting on her hip. She leaned into him, her head resting in the crook of his neck, breathing in the smell of citrus and the sea.  
They sat in silence, just enjoying each other’s presence as Rhysand began to stroke his hand through Feyre’s dark golden hair.


	10. Velaris

Feyre woke up groggily and reached for her phone to check the time. _Shit_ she said to herself when she realised it was 8:40. She only had 20 minutes until English started.  
Clambering out of bed she wiped her sleeve over her face.  
And froze.  
This wasn’t her jumper.  
Her clothes smelt of cotton and jasmine, but this smelt like salt and citrus fruits.  
She looked down at herself and saw that she was wearing an oversized black hoodie, and that she still had her clothes from last night on.  
And then she remembered what happened.  
_She fell asleep in Rhysand’s embrace, and when it got late, he woke her up. She didn’t wake up fully, she had been so drained from that day’s events.  
Rhysand got her into a sitting position and wrestled her converse back onto her feet as she dozed. He slipped her arms into something that she could instantly tell wasn’t hers, because she had only brought a raincoat and this was soft and warm. Her raincoat followed afterwards and he pulled her to her feet. He kept one arm around her waist, half carrying her as she made no attempt to wake up properly.  
When they got to her dorm, the Summer House, he fished her card out of her pocket and let them in. At that point he gave up trying to make her walk and picked her up, cradling her to his chest. He made his way to her room, knowing where it was from visiting Mor, though only when Feyre wasn’t there.  
He let himself in, and told Mor to calm down when she jumped to her feet. Feyre was fine, she had just fallen asleep and had refused to wake up, so he carried her back. Mor __pulled back Feyre’s duvet and Rhysand set her down, taking off her coat while Mor slipped off her shoes before they both settled her into bed._  
And then Feyre’s vision had gone black.

Feyre shrugged off her clothes from the night before, pulled on a pair of jeans, and an army green top. She packed her bag as she brushed her teeth, put on her shoes and quickly ran through her hair with a brush as she went to grab her jacket. As she grabbed her own navy zip up hoodie, she looked towards Rhysand’s, thrown haphazardly on the bed.  
She grabbed it and whisked out the door before she could change her mind.

* * *

As Rhysand dropped into the seat next to her he put down a take-away cup, and a paper bag from the House of Wind. When Feyre looked at him in surprise, he put his arm of the back of his chair and leaned towards her kissing her on the cheek. He lingered for second longer than normal, making an unexpected butterfly burst in her stomach. “Rhysand, what are these?” she asked, dumbfounded.  
“A hot chocolate and a soft pretzel with cream cheese.” He said. He had pulled away from her slightly, but kept his arm around the back of her chair.  
“But _why_?” She insisted.  
“Because I know you like them, and I thought it would be a nice surprise.” He told her with a small smile. His glanced down at her body for a second and his eyes flickered with light. “You’re wearing my jumper.” He said, his eyes soft and what could only be described as gooey.  
Feyre’s cheeks reddened slightly, “I, um, yeah, it’s warm and it smells nice.”  
“It smells nice? What does it smell like?” Rhys asked, raising his eyebrows.  
Feyre’s cheeks heated some more, and she turned away to try and keep herself composed, “It smells like you.” Rhysand grinned and leaned towards her again, pressing a kiss just underneath her ear.  
Today the class were discussing their projects, and as Feyre and Rhysand leaned over their notes and their diagrams, he leaned into her slightly, so their shoulders were touching. Something Feyre had begun feeling, little bit by little bit, rushed through her as she leaned into him too.  
When the seminar ended, Rhys said to Feyre, “Do you want to go somewhere? Just escape for a bit?”  
“Where did you have in mind?” Feyre asked. She was all for escaping at the moment, especially if it meant reducing her chances of seeing Tamlin.  
“That, Feyre darling, is a surprise.” He purred, twining his fingers with hers as they stepped into the hallway.

* * *

“This is Velaris.” Rhysand said with a sweeping gesture.  
Rhysand had driven them for 30 minutes to what Feyre could best describe as a market. Yet it felt like so much more. Stalls, as well as more permanent shops were everywhere selling all sorts of things.  
Herbs and spices packaged into glass pots, flowers of purple, pink, yellow, red all arranged, bound together and ready to be whisked away. Some selling cloth of the most beautifully patterned fabrics that Feyre had ever seen. Stalls of fresh meat and fish, vegetables freshly harvested. Necklaces, bracelets, earrings all glinting with sapphire blue, emerald green, ruby red, crystalline diamond and iridescent pearl. Cakes, brownies, cookies in more flavours than she could imagine, iced in a way that surely meant they were art.  
Further into the market paintings, sculptures and other art could be seen. Feyre stood in wonder. She had no idea that this place existed. It was incredible.  
She looked to Rhys, her eyes alight with amazement. “This is…” She began breathlessly, “wondrous. Completely and utterly wondrous.”  
Feyre grinned and grabbed Rhysand’s hand and dragged him into the throng, eager to discover everything that awaited her.

After visiting two herb, three fruit, a jewellery and more art stalls than Rhysand could count, Feyre’s eye was caught by one which had stained glass dangling on cords, like wind chimes without the chime.  
Painted with flowers, hills, sunsets and the sea, there was a rainbow of colour at every side. Feyre once again dropped Rhysand’s hand, as she did every time they got to a stall. She wandered into the propped up shop, so she was surrounded by the coloured glass.  
Sunlight shone through, making her skin, her hair, her clothes light up in shards of colour. She admired the art around her in awe, then noticed Rhys making the same expression. Except her wasn’t looking at the glass, he was looking at her.  
She met his gaze and he said to her, awestruck, “You are absolutely breath-taking Feyre.”  
“You don’t have to act here Rhys, there’s no one we know around.” Feyre said dismissively, walking out of the stall and towards him.  
When she reached him their fingers tangled, as they always did, and Rhysand murmured to her “I’m not pretending Feyre, you are exquisite.” His eyes were dark, soaking up every detail on her face. A tremor of excitement travelled through Feyre’s veins. Tamlin often called her beautiful when he was trying to ‘woo’ her and win her back, and it never affected her. But knowing that Rhysand thought so made her body flush in elation. She didn’t know how to respond, he was looking at her so intensely.  
So she said the first thing that came to mind, “Well, I suppose you’re not too bad yourself.”  
Rhysand’s eyes snapped from smouldering to sharp and twinkling with light as his face lit up with a grin. “Come on, Feyre darling, we both know that I’m the most ravishing man you’ve ever seen.” Feyre rolled her eyes in return, but what he had said was completely true.  
An hour later they were sat on twisted iron seats, drinking English breakfast tea – something Rhys insisted she try – and eating chocolate fudge cupcakes. When Feyre had finished laughing at him for getting icing on his nose, he asked her “Do you want to come over to watch a movie tonight? Azriel, Mor and Amren are coming over too, it’d be nice to have you there.”  
“Yeah, of course.” Feyre said without hesitation. She hadn’t let Mor or Rhys see it, but she was ecstatic at the fact that she was re-joining their circle, even if Amren wasn’t fully ready to accept her.


	11. Movie Night

On Friday night Nesta, Elain and Feyre stayed at home, and spent Saturday with their dad. Rhysand messaged her throughout the day, telling her things that Cassian had said that made him laugh, and photos he thought she would find funny. He had stopped sending the horrifically cringey messages, but often their texts were outrageously flirty and suggestive, and Feyre knew that they weren’t all pretend.  
On Saturday evening Nesta drove the three sisters back, Feyre jumped out and called a goodbye to them as she hurried to Rhysand’s dorm. Cassian opened the house’s door and said in explanation, “Rhysand’s making popcorn, he doesn’t trust any of us.” A faux huff in his voice.  
“With good reason, if I remember correctly.” Feyre replied, taunting him.   
The put-on sulk left his face and was replaced with a beaming smile. “Remember correctly you do, little one.” He said as he led her to the kitchen.   
“Little one?” She questioned in indignation, “I’m in the same year as you!”   
“Yes,” He admitted, stopping just inside the doorway of the kitchen, the smell of popcorn hitting Feyre’s nose, “But I said little one, not young one.” He grinned and ruffled her hair, accentuating the fact that she only came up to his chest. She stuck her tongue out at him which made him roar with laughter.   
Arms snaked their way around her waist and Rhysand rested his head on her shoulder. “Hey,” she said, twisting her head towards him to kiss him on the cheek. It had only been three and a half weeks since they started ‘dating’ yet Feyre found that it felt completely natural to kiss Rhys, to hold his hand and to hug him, and Rhys felt exactly the same. It was as if they were made to touch each other.  
Cassian groaned in mock disgust, “Come on love birds, we got a movie to watch.”

Carrying boxes of pizza, bowls of popcorn, chocolate and bottles of Coke, they all headed to Cassian and Rhysand’s room. Cassian went to sort out the TV and get the movie on as the rest of them piled their paper plates with pizza, and filled paper bowls with the other snacks.   
Rhysand tugged Feyre towards his bed, he sat first and Feyre settled down in front of him leaning against his chest, their food to the side of them. Amren and Mor sat on Cassian’s bed, Azriel next to them on a beanbag he had dragged out from under Cassian’s bed.   
“Today, for our weekly movie nights,” Cassian proclaimed extravagantly, walking towards the light switch, “we have chosen…  
horror.”   
With a flourish Cassian turned off the lights and hit play. The words _The Descent_ appeared on the screen and Cassian dropped into his beanbag next to Azriel’s.  
“Are you okay with scary movies?” Rhysand whispered into Feyre’s ear.   
The light breath tickled her and she supressed a shiver, leaning back and to the side slightly to whisper in response, “I don’t hate them but I do get scared easily.” She admitted.  
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the monsters.” He murmured, and kissed her temple. Feyre knew that he didn’t only mean the monsters in the movie.

Throughout the movie Feyre had gotten scared enough that she had ended up sat sideways in Rhysand’s lap, arms looped around his neck, ready to bury her face again when something horrible happened. Rhysand trembled lightly with laughter every time she jumped or her grip tightened, and had wound his arms firmly around her. Mor was in a similar state, hiding behind Azriel's beanbag. The only one of them who wasn't even slightly scared was Amren, who was sat forward, eagerly watching the screen.  
 When the movie finished, Feyre, Mor, and Amren gathered their things to leave. When they were saying goodbye to the boys, Feyre wrapped her arms around Rhys’ neck and whispered into his ear, “I am actually terrified of going outside right now.” Which made him laugh, a sound that she had come to love hearing. When she pulled away she pressed a lingering kiss just below the corner of his mouth. “See you tomorrow?” she said as she backed away to the door, he nodded in response and she spun around.  
As they girls walked down the hallway, Mor asked her suddenly “Why do you never kiss Rhys? As in on the mouth?”   
The question caught Feyre out, but she recovered quickly, “We just think people probably don’t want to see us all over each other, so we keep it to ourselves.”   
“You shouldn’t care what other people think.” Mor stated. “But you have kissed him right?”   
“Ye-yeah of course.” Feyre stumbled. She hoped that they thought that it was because she was surprised by such a question.   
“Well?” Mor prodded.  
“Well what?”   
“Is he a good kisser?” She questioned.  
“I don’t think I want to hear this.” Amren muttered. She and Feyre hadn’t spoken tonight, although, in all due fairness, there hadn’t really been an opportunity to.  
“Yeah,” Feyre agreed, “I’m surprised you’re asking Mor, you’ve known him forever, is it not a bit weird to you?”  
“Just answer the freaking question Feyre.” Mor said in faux annoyance at her friend.   
Feyre laughed a little and hesitated before answering, imagining the kisses that had touched her cheeks, neck, jaw, temple, hands, pressing to her lips instead. “Yes, yeah he’d a really good kisser.” She replied.   
The image of Rhysand leaning towards her and kissing her lips instead of her cheek flared up in her head. It was a thought she couldn’t get out of her head for the rest of the night.


	12. The English Project

Sunday morning Feyre climbed into the shower after her run before grabbing her English project notes.  
“Where’re you going?” Mor asked sleepily.   
“Rhys and I are going to work on our English project.” She replied, slipping her notebook into her bag.   
“Oh yeah,” she snorted, “sure. What are you doing anyway?”  
“We’re taking inspiration from Shakespeare’s _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_ which we studied this year. There’s this guy who has lost the girl he loves in the woods and he's trying to find her. We're writing his monologue-slash-soliloquy, Rhys is acting and I’m painting the background for it.” Feyre was at the door as she finished her sentence, “Bye!” she called, the door closing behind her.

* * *

Rhys was leaning against the door when Feyre turned up, hair strung across her face, scarf becoming unwound. He looked at her in curiosity, startled at her blown away look. Her dorm was only two minutes away at least. He looked over her dishevelled form, which was when he noticed her clutching two cups from the House of Wind.   
A smile crept onto his face and Feyre held out a cup, saying “Cappuccino?” as her greeting.   
“You, Feyre darling, are a star.” He said, wrapping his hands around his cup, trapping hers beneath before she slipped it out.   
“I know.” She winked, “I’m the best girlfriend ever.” Rhysand pushed the door to the drama building open, and grinned at her as she swished in past him.   
He just wished that she wasn’t his _fake_ girlfriend. Since they had spent more and more time together his feelings for Feyre had transformed into something more intense than his previous affection.  
They made their way to the studio where Rhys normally had his lessons, talking about the movie last night. When they got to the studio Feyre walked into the middle of the room and sat down. Rhysand cocked his head at her in amusement but followed her nevertheless. The floor was grey and the walls were painted black, but the large windows let sunlight pour inside and fill the room.   
As Rhysand sat down across from Feyre she reached into her bag and pulled out a smaller, paper one. The smell of pretzels hit Rhysand’s nose before Feyre reached into the bag, and held the salted treat up in triumph. She handed it to him, still warm, as well as a little pot of cream cheese.   
Rhys shook his head in disbelief, “You just keep getting better and better don’t you?” Feyre just grinned at him as she grabbed her own pretzel out of the bag.  
Rhysand tipped his coffee to his mouth, and Feyre was hyper-aware of the shape of his lips as they pressed against the take-away lid, her thoughts still wired to the idea of kissing him because of Mor's question the night before- “How was your walk back?” Rhysand asked teasingly, interrupting her from her daydream.  
Feyre laughed nervously, deciding to tell the truth, “Honestly? I didn’t even think about it, I was too distracted by Mor’s question.”   
“Which was?”   
“She asked me why we never kiss in front of people,” Feyre confessed, unwinding her scarf from around her neck.   
Rhysand raised an eyebrow at her, “What did you say?”   
Feyre shrugged, “I just told her that it was because we didn’t think other people would appreciate seeing us all over each other.” She said, hoping Rhysand would tell her it was a reasonable explanation.   
To her relief, Rhysand nodded. “What did she say to that?”   
“Told me that I shouldn’t care what other people think.” Feyre grinned, popping some pretzel into her mouth. It was an answer that was so utterly Mor. “And asked me if we had, in fact, kissed.”   
Rhysand’s smile turned flirtatious, “And what did you tell her?”   
“I told her that of course we had.” Feyre said simply, averting her eyes to her pretzel.   
“And?” Rhys prodded, “This is Mor that you had this conversation with right? I’m sure she asked you how good I was.” He gave her a lazy grin and Feyre couldn’t help but think how attractive he was.   
“Yeah- Yeah she did, I told her that you were good.” Feyre said, trying to sound casual.   
“Just good?” He asked, hurt in his voice. But from the dramatically placed hand on his heart and the twinkle that hadn’t left his eye, Feyre knew he was joking. She shoved away her embarrassment and nerves, getting wound up about the idea of kissing him was ridiculous. Of course Mor would have asked it at some point, and if she wanted to keep up this dating façade, she’s going to have to pretend that she’d kissed Rhysand a lot, and know how good he is. And she wasn’t exactly going to tell her best friend that her fake boyfriend was a bad kisser was she?   
Feyre smiled smugly at him, wanting to play, “Well I don’t know the truth do I? You could be terrible.” One of the things she liked so much about Rhys was his sense of humour. He never failed to be sarcastic, but he also flirted a lot. She knew she could flirt back without him thinking it was real, even if she didn’t know if it was real or not herself.   
Rhysand smirked at her comment and leaned towards her, “Do you really think that I would be a bad kisser?” Feyre leaned towards him, and she could see the brief flicker of surprise in his eyes. When they got to this stage of their flirting banter Feyre normally pulled away, said something funny or changed the conversation. But she felt braver this time, wanting to see how far it would go, and she knew Rhysand could see it within her.   
“Like I said, I just don’t know,” She whispered, her eyes flicking down to his mouth, only inches away. When her eyes met his again something had changed in them. They were darker, hungrier. “Why don’t you show me?”   
Rhysand let out a low laugh and shook his head as he pulled away. He desperately wanted to kiss Feyre, and she was so, so close it made his heart clench. But he couldn’t kiss her, no after what he told her just the other night “Okay, okay, you win this time.” Feyre punched her hand into the air at her victory, but she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. She had wanted Rhysand to close the gap, to be closer to her.   
Rhysand leaned back onto his elbows, stretching his long legs in front of him, Feyre’s smile dimmed slightly as she asked him, “What do we do about the kissing thing? I mean if Mor has noticed it other people would have too, and it kind of diminishes the credibility of our relationship.” A drop of worry had crept into her voice. If Tamlin thought there was even a slight chance of her and Rhysand’s relationship not being real, going well, or ending he would be back on her in a flash.  
Rhysand chewed his lip for a couple seconds, something that Feyre cursed him for because it drew her thoughts back to the softness of them. And immediately made her think of them on her own. “I can kiss you without actually kissing you.” Rhys said, breaking Feyre out of her trance.   
“Huh?” she asked, bewildered at his statement.   
“Well, make it look like I’m actually kissing you, but we won’t actually kiss.”   
Feyre looked at him curiously. “How?” she asked.   
“Well, one of them is to put my thumbs on your lips, or if your kissing me, your thumbs on my lips.”   
“Won’t that just be really obviously fake?” Feyre asked, but Rhys shook his head.   
“Not if you do it quickly, or at the right angle. Look, c’mere.” He said, rising to his knees and pulling Feyre up too. “I’m not gonna kiss you, so don’t worry, but I’m going to get very close.” Feyre just nodded. Rhysand placed his hands on either side of her face and lay his thumbs over her lips. He leaned towards her and pressed his lips to his thumbs. Their lips didn’t even touch but Feyre froze. This was the closeness she had just been craving. He pulled away and removed his hands, “That’s one way.” He said, completely unfazed by their nearness.  
_Of course it wouldn’t affect him_ Feyre thought, _He does drama, he probably has to do this all the time_. Of course, she had no idea that Rhysand revelled in being so close as well. “Another way would be to use your hair as a curtain.” Rhys said. “So, if I’m lower than you,” he sat back down, “When you lean over me, your hair will fall around your face and partially cover mine too.” He motioned her towards him and she leaned over fighting to maintain her balance in the awkward knee position.  
He looked up into her blue eyes and told her, “Then you can either do what I just did with the thumb, or you can kiss me right here.” Feyre’s nerves concentrated to the exact pinprick on the corner of her lip that Rhysand touched with his finger tip.   
His eyes were dark again, like they had been earlier, and Feyre liked this, being above, being in control. So she leaned forwards and touched her lips to the edge of his mouth.  
And promptly lost her balance.   
With that final tilt forward and nothing to lean on except Rhysand, the awkward position had become too awkward and she tumbled onto the boy in front of her. He let out a surprised ‘oof’ and grabbed her waist as they fell. Thankfully neither of them had whacked their head against the floor, and no knees had gone into unfortunate places. Feyre pushed herself up, and looked down at the raven haired boy sprawled beneath her. And burst into laughter. She rolled off of Rhysand as it started to bubble out of him as well. Soon they were both in hysterics, laughing and laughing, lying on the dull grey floor.   
After neither of them had laughed for a couple seconds, but both with wild grins on their faces, Rhysand said in an amused voice, “We should probably do some work now.”


	13. I'm Not Him

On Monday morning when Feyre fell into her chair next to Rhysand for English, she slumped into him resting her head on his shoulder. Rhys wrapped his arms around her, engulfing him in his warmth. “Morning sleepy head,” he murmured before kissing the top of Feyre’s head, “bit tired?” Feyre pulled away and glared at him.   
Rhysand knew full well she was tired because he had persuaded her to watch a TV show called _Dexter_ and she hadn’t stopped watching it until one am. It may not sound very late, but it was two hours later than Feyre was used to. Rhysand grinned at the hair strewn across her face, and swept it to the side. He brushed her hair away and held her face, kissing her for a brief second.  
Or rather, kissed his thumbs that he had pressed over her mouth as a barrier. Feyre’s heart stumbled, and even when Rhysand pulled away, his violet eyes met hers and her heart’s canter turned into a gallop.   
Rhysand wished that he didn’t have to kiss his thumbs, he wished that he could kiss her, kiss every inch of her. But he knew he couldn’t, not after what she had gone through, and because she only saw him as a friend.   
She stared at him now with the same intensity that she had yesterday in the drama studio, and Rhysand could have sworn it was desire. Or at least, that’s what he wanted it to be.   
The pair was rescued from each other’s intense gaze by Mr. Suriel beginning his lecture, and as soon as they turned towards the front, their hands found each other.

When the lecture ended and the room filled with talking, Rhys said to Feyre “Do you want people to think that we’re more believable as a couple? Something that will get back to Tamlin?” Feyre nodded without even questioning what it was he wanted to do. Anything if it got back to Tamlin. They walked to the door, the last people to leave.   
But before they could leave Rhys tugged on her hand lightly, pulling her to the side of the door. “I’m going to pretend to kiss you okay?” Rhysand said, his eyes holding hers. Feyre just nodded, though she didn’t understand how pretending to kiss in an empty classroom was going to make their ‘relationship’ seem more believable. Rhysand placed his hands on her hips and gently pushed her back until her back hit the wall.   
Both of Feyre’s arms slid around the back of his neck as he pressed his body into hers. He touched his forehead to hers and slowly brought their lips closer together-  
Someone burst through the door.   
Rhysand wrenched himself away from Feyre, his face a mask of embarrassment, hers red with real embarrassment. “By the Cauldron I am so sorry, I just forgot something I am so sorry.” Clare said, rushing over to her usual desk to grab something before running out the door again, the whole time avoiding looking at the couple.   
As the door shut behind her Feyre looked at Rhysand quizzically. “How did you know that she would be back?”   
“She always forgets something, I’ve noticed often when the class ends a couple moments after the last person has left she rushes back in. I don’t understand how she hasn’t learnt yet.”   
A smile crept onto Feyre’s face, “So do you stalk every girl then.” Rhys shot her a withering look which made Feyre laugh. “C’mon,” Feyre said, catching his fingers in her own, “you have Latin to get to.”

Later that day Rhysand texted her,  
_Come over tonight? X  
_ Feyre smiled, because when she and Rhys were together in his room was when they were completely themselves. They didn’t have to put on a show for everyone else, so she knew that when he invited her over, it was because he genuinely wanted to see her. And he knew that every time she came over, it was because she genuinely wanted to be around. Unfortunately, her evening was taken up;  
  _Sorry, I can’t, I have an essay to write :( x_   
He replied back simply with a  
_< /3_   
As Feyre was replying to him to say that next time she saw him she would kiss it better, Mor swished through the door. And Feyre meant swished.   
Mor had started to wear Harlem pants as the days got ever so slightly warmer.   
Dropping her bag at the base of her own bed, Mor came over to Feyre and flopped onto her bed. “I suppose you’ve heard what people are saying?”   
“Ummm?” Feyre hummed in response. She didn’t tend to care what gossip was going around.  
“Well apparently Rhysand had you pinned topless against the wall, your legs wrapped around him as you wildly made out in the English room.” Mor told her, as if she were simply telling Feyre that someone had seen an apple on the ground.   
Feyre’s mouth dropped open as her face flushed crimson. Trying to reassure her, Mor said, “I don’t believe them, and considering I can get my information right from the original source, I thought I should probably ask you.”   
Feyre gapped for a second before admitting. “We were kissing, and he had pressed me into the wall, but my legs weren’t around him and my top was definitely on!”  
“Well, that’s what’s going around, and my guess is that it will only get worse as the days go on.”   
“Fucking great.” Feyre said, pissed at everyone in her stupidly small university. Why did everyone have to exaggerate the story? Why did they have to make it more interesting for themselves?   
“Don’t worry, it’ll only be a thing for like a week, possibly two, then they’ll move onto something else.” Mor knew herself what it was like to be the talk of the school.  
In a drama camp a couple years ago when she had first met Cassian and Azriel, she had slept with Cassian with the sole purpose of pissing off her family. Only after she had done it did she realise how selfish it had been, considering that she and Cassian never touched that way again, and the pained way that Azriel had looked at her.  
But Feyre’s blush had already disappeared, “You know what, fuck it, I don’t care what they think.”   
Mor grinned at her, “Preach it!”

The following week Feyre heard the whispers and felt the stares on her back, but she held her head high. She wasn’t going to let some rumour make her feel worthless. On Thursday Rhysand and Feyre walked to the House of Wind for lunch, because her father was still away on his business trip.  
As they walked through the halls of the university one boy – Feyre believed his name to be Keir – muttered “Whore.” under his breath as they passed her.   
In an instant Keir was thrown against the wall, being held in place by a Rhysand’s fist, clutching the neck of his top. Rage glinted in his eyes, in such an intense way that Feyre had never seen before. But she wasn't scared of him, just...surprised.   
“Apologise.” Rhysand seethed with terrifying calm.   
Keir looked at Rhysand, his eyes wide with fear, “I- I’m sorry Feyre, I didn’t mean it.”   
Rhysand scorched him with his glare for a couple more moments before dropping him and turning away. As he turned the group of people who had been startled into watching disappeared.   
They walked in silent for a couple minutes, out of the University and down the road, before Feyre grabbed his arm and pulled him into a narrow alleyway.   
“You didn’t have to do that.” She said. She had no idea that Rhysand would react so strongly to hearing her being jeered at. It reminded her of someone else’s overprotectiveness, and not in a good way.   
Rhys leaned against the wall and rubbed his hand down his face, “I’m sorry.” He said hoarsely.   
“Don’t-” Feyre chocked out, “don’t become like him.”   
Rhysand’s head flew up, his eyes once again intense, “I will never, _never_ , be like him.”   
Feyre looked at him uneasily. She would have believed him instantly before, but seeing that, seeing how quickly he got angry-   
“Please,” Rhysand whispered, his eyes like broken Christmas lights, “don’t compare me to him.” He came away from the wall and gingerly picked up on of Feyre’s hands. “The thought of someone hurting you kills me, I just reacted, I-”   
“It’s okay, Rhys.” Feyre interrupted him. “I know you’re not like him.” And she knew he wasn't. She knew Rhys was a strong feeler, he always has been.   
He felt a rush of relief go through him at her forgiveness. The last thing he wanted to do was push her away. She brushed a kiss across the back of his hand and led him back out onto the street.   
_Going to the House of Wind always seems to lead to something dramatic_. Feyre thought as they made their way to the café.


	14. Amren's Birthday

Friday at 4:00 Feyre was sitting on her bed, sketching a man with large, bat-like wings. In her dream the night before they had flown above her, into distant mountains and she liked how they had radiated power.  
“What are you doing? Why aren’t you getting ready?” Mor asked her roommate as she came through the door, just coming back from a piano lesson.  
“Ready for what?” Feyre asked, confused. Mor was at her wardrobe, pulling various things out.  
“It’s Amren’s birthday tomorrow, we’re all going to her house in like an hour, and yes you have been invited. Pack a bikini.” She said over her shoulder. Feyre jumped to her feet, suddenly remembering. She had even gotten Amren a present; a necklace with a blood red stone as it’s pendent.  
She grabbed a duffle bag and began to pack her clothes. She ducked into the bathroom to grab some toiletries and shoved them into her bag as well.

Mor led her to the parking lot where they were all stood around Cassian’s jeep. Feyre went straight to Rhys, her arm slipping around his waist. “Hello, Feyre darling,” He purred, a sparkle in his eye, “I’m afraid you’re going to have to sit on my lap.” Feyre raised her eyebrow and looked around.  
Cassian would be driving, Azriel would sit in the front to make sure Cass didn't try any crazy off-road tricks. So that left her, Rhys, Mor and Amren in the back.  
Feyre clambered in on top of Rhys - not the most elegant thing she had ever done - and sat on his lap, leaning against the car door. Thankfully the roof of the car was quite high, so she didn’t have to slouch in an uncomfortable position. Plus she liked having an excuse to be close to Rhys, and he felt exactly the same.  
One hand trailed lightly up and down her thigh, tickling her, and she wondered if he noticed her hitched breathing every time his fingers travelled a fraction higher than the time before.  
Nearly an hour later they arrived at Amren’s house, which was conveniently empty because her parents were in Paris. Feyre had been to Amren’s house only a handful of times before, and she was still in awe at how big and modern it was. As Amren unlocked the door she said, “You guys can all go to your usual rooms, we can get in the hot tub as soon as you’re ready.” Cassian let out a whoop as he raced down the halls, always eager to be the first one in.

  
Rhysand tugged Feyre past the room she normally shared with Mor and whispered to her huskily, “You’re with me,”  
Their room was as large as their dorm rooms, but instead of two single beds, there was a double bed pushed against the wall. Feyre ignored the bed – she would deal with that later – instead she dug her bikini out of her bag and went into the en suite to get changed. Rhys was sat on the plush bed waiting for her when he came out. Feyre saw his eyes glaze over as he took in her body, covered only in a turquoise bikini with gold trimming.  
Rhysand hadn’t realised how much more Feyre had filled out since that summer. Though Rhysand struggled to keep his attention away from her curvacious hips and her fuller breasts, he still noticed that she couldn’t drag her eyes away from him either. Naked from the waist up, his tanned body was on display. His abdomen was chiselled and his arms defined in muscle.  
They couldn’t have stayed staring at each other for more than a couple seconds, but it felt like an eternity.  
Finally, breaking the trance they were both trapped in, Rhys stood up, “Ready?” he asked. Feyre nodded and took his hand, which somehow felt much more intimate when they were wearing next to nothing.  
They picked up a couple of towels from the kitchen table where someone had placed a pile, and walked outside. The hot tub was about 20 meters away from the house, which was long enough in the dark February air to make Feyre shake by the time they reached the tub. Cassian, Azriel and Amren were already there, relaxing in the heat when Feyre and Rhysand reached them. Feyre climbed the few steps and sunk into the heat, so hot that it stung at first. She settled in the corner next to Azriel, Rhysand following close behind her. His arm snaked around the back of her, his hand resting on her hip.  
She flushed at the feel of his hand on her bare skin, and hopped it just looked like it was the heat of the water. She leaned into him, and she felt him shudder beneath her at the feel of her pressed against him.  
Mor sauntered out then, clad in a bright red cut out one piece, and Feyre swore she saw Azriel’s and Cassian's pupils dilate. She supposed that even if Mor was unavailable to them, doesn't mean they couldn't consider her attractive.  
Once she had slipped into the steaming water Cassian reached over the edge of the hot tub and passed everyone a beer, except Amren who he produced a bottle and wine glass, then proceeded to pour her some red wine.

They talked about school, about things that had been happening lately, about how Cassian had fallen on his ass in terror when he thought he had seen a racoon in his car. An hour and a couple more drinks later, everyone was in hysterics and Feyre was happily buzzed. She rarely drank, so though she had only had three beers, they were affecting her more than the others. At some point Rhysand’s thumb had looped through the hip of her bikini bottoms, and Feyre’s hand rested on his bare thigh. She had never touched him like that before, and he just hoped that the water and his trunks covered up anything that was happening down there...  
Amren stretched before stating, “I’m gonna get out and start on the food.”  
Mor nodded, “I’ll come with.” climbing out after her. Not saying anything, Azriel followed, which caused Cassian to say “Like hell I’m staying in here with just you two.” And hurried after their other friends.  
Feyre turned to Rhys and her eyes met his, “Do you want to get out?” He asked.  
Feyre shook her head, “No, it’s peaceful out here.” Rhys smiled softly at her, taking in the utter relaxation on her face. He loved when she was like this, when she wasn’t thinking about anything other than the moment.  
Then, because for some reason he just couldn’t keep away from her, he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. Feyre’s breath caught in her throat. “There’s no one around Rhys?” She said the statement as a question.  
“I know,” He whispered, “that was for me.” With that he climbed out of the hot tub, and left Feyre in confusion. She didn’t understand what he had meant. Their kisses were usually for show, but this one was for him? Did he feel the same things she felt? Feyre hadn’t considered the possibility, but he had started looking at her in ways he hadn’t before.

A couple minutes after Rhysand disappeared into the house, after Feyre calmed her thoughts, she got out too, and wrapped a towel around herself to try and protect her from the cold air. She padded through the kitchen where Cassian, Az, Mor and Amren seemed to be making what was Mexican food. As she stepped into the hallway, she bumped into Rhys, who said nothing but brushed his lips against her brow, and then slipped past her into the kitchen. Feyre shook her head, and made her way to her room, but as soon as she looked in her bag for the long pyjamas she had packed, she cursed Mor.  
When she had quickly dashed into their bathroom Mor must have taken them out, and in their place left some teeny tiny shorts and a long sleeve top. She had also gone as far to replace Feyre’s underwear with scraps of lace. How in the Cauldron did she move so quickly?  
Feyre sighed in defeat. There was nothing she could do about it now.  
She dried and dressed herself and hung her bikini in the shower where Rhys had but his trunks, before heading downstairs. When she got there, her friends all had yet another drink in their hands, and were cooking chicken and beef on the stove, Feyre guessed for burrito and taco fillings.  
Feyre wandered over to Rhysand, who pulled her into his arms when she reached him. They ate and drank and laughed some more before finally moving into the lounge to watch a movie. It was one of their favourite things to do as a group, and Feyre smiled, remembering all the marathons that they’ve had.  
In the lounge, Feyre and Rhys sat in the corner of the sofa. Feyre’s legs resting over his, his arm around her back.  
Underneath a blanket because of the lack of warmth that Mor’s chosen pyjamas provided, Rhys’ hand trailed up from her ankle, over her bent knee, and down her thigh, occasionally travelling over her stomach as well. Her whole body burned at the contact and she blamed the beer. She couldn’t get her mind off of what he had said earlier, and she wanted to ask him but couldn’t, not while there were other people around.  
Rhysand was barely paying attention to the movie. All he could focus on was the feel of Feyre’s skin beneath his fingertips, the sharp intakes of breath if he tickled a particular spot, the way her back arched ever so slightly when his fingers drifted over her ribcage. Finally he stopped, and instead wrapped his arms firmly around her, holding her close. But Feyre had started to run her fingers through his hair, something entirely different to be distracted by.

Two movies later it was midnight and they sang _Happy Birthday_ to Amren, vaguely out of tune and out of time. They were all tipsy from beer but not so drunk that they couldn’t walk straight or that the room would spin. Another hour later after eating chocolate cake and exhausted, they all headed back to their rooms. Feyre turned on the bedside lamps, threw back the bed covers, took her bra off underneath her top and then clambered into bed.  
Rhys hesitated by the door, “Rhys, you can sleep in the bed with me, I don’t care.” Feyre slurred slightly, stretching out her heavy limbs. Actually, she _wanted_ him in the bed. She wanted to pull him close and for his warmth to engulf her so she could feel safe. Rhys turned the main light off and walked over to her, pulling off his jumper and dropping it to his side. Feyre’s eyes slid over his and up to his face, where her eyes met his intent stare. Rhysand turned the lamps off, and fumbled his way into the bed, his eyes adjusting to the dim light coming through the curtains.  
Feyre lay on her side, facing him, and Rhysand lay on his, facing her. Their hands found each other and they held tight. Then, because he wanted to, because he wanted to feel her wrapped in his arms, because he wanted to feel as if she felt the same way about him, Rhysand inched closer to her. “Turn around.” He whispered to her shadow, so she did.  
Rhys pulled her against him so her back was pressed into his chest, his arms wrapped around her. Feyre felt the warmth of his entire body seep into hers and he wriggled closer to him. He let out a ragged breath and the movement and a couple moments later pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. And another one on her shoulder. And another one under her ear. “Not like this Rhysand,” Feyre whispered to him.  
Instantly he felt shame blow through him. Of course Feyre wouldn’t want to kiss him, not really, not when there weren’t other people around. Not after what she had been through with Tamlin. All those moments between them, it was just Feyre pretending, making it convincing. These feelings for her wasn’t going to end well, and Rhysand knew that, he knew that he would end up broken hearted, just like last time.  
But he couldn’t help but be enchanted by her.  
Rhysand closed his eyes and held Feyre tightly in his arms, dreading when he was going to have to let go of her forever.


	15. A Bit Sudden, Don't You Think?

When Mor woke up she stretched her arms above her head and smiled at the memories of last night. She kicked the duvet off and took a long, luxurious shower before heading down to the kitchen to begin the tedious task of cleaning up.  
As she padded into the kitchen, she saw that it wasn’t as messy as she had expected it to be. A moment later Azriel suddenly appeared from around the corner, equally as startled to see her. “Jeez, Az,” Mor said, “how long have you been awake?”  
He shrugged and picked up a stray bottle cap, “About three hours.”  
“Since seven? Are you not tired?” Mor asked, walking over to him as he flicked the cap into the bin. He just shrugged again, this time looking away from the beautiful blonde girl before him.  
“You know I don’t sleep well, Mor.” He whispered. And Mor’s heart broke a little. Azriel had night terrors, his dreams plagued with shadows and monsters that lived under mountains. It was why he was allowed his own dorm room; so his screams wouldn’t disturb his roommate.  
Mor placed a hand on his shoulder. “I know, Az, I know.” She responded quietly. Azriel turned his head to face Mor, and his hazel eyes met her brown. Their gazes locked and Mor looked as if she was about to say something when they heard someone crash through the doorway.  
They jumped apart at the noise, just as Cassian boomed “Morning!” in his seemingly constant joyous voice. He sauntered over to them, not noticing their startled expressions. He pushed himself up onto the countertop across from t  
hem, “So how are we all this morning?”  
Mor smiled sweetly at him, “You know I don’t do hangovers Cassian.”   
“True, true,” He nodded. To be honest, Mor could probably out-drink him, but he would never admit it.  
“Az?” Cassian asked, turning his attention to the quiet boy.  
“Same as usual.” Azriel said, “I cleaned up most of the stuff from last night.” He added, gesturing around them.  
Cassian nodded absentmindedly then said in a low voice, “What do you guys think of Feyre and Rhysand?”  
Mor’s eyes cut into his, “What do you mean?” she asked, her tone steely.  
“I mean do you think it’s a good idea? Do you think it will end well?”  
“Why wouldn’t it?” Mor questioned, suspicion creeping into her voice. It was unlike Cassian to doubt anything, especially if that thing had to do with Rhys.  
Cassian shrugged, “I don’t know, I just don’t want either of them to get hurt. And it was a bit sudden don’t you think? Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled to have Feyre back, I just… I don’t know.” He tried to explain. The three went quiet, taking in what Cassian had said. It was true, it had seemed a bit sudden when Feyre and Rhysand got together. But love could be sudden and unexpected couldn’t it?  
Azriel broke the silence, “I think you’re just salty that Rhysand has an Archeron sister and you don’t.” Cassian and Mor stared at Azriel in shock, completely unsuspecting of the comment. This funny, snarky side of Azriel was rare, but it shone through sometimes.  
Then Mor burst into laughter. It was known amongst their circle that Cassian was infatuated with Feyre’s eldest sister Nesta, and that every attempt he had ever made to woo her resulted in him being ground into the dirt.  
Cassian’s laughter joined Mor’s and then Azriel’s. Amren walked into the room, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “And why are we all so happy this morning?” She asked, heading towards the coffee machine.  
“We were just talking about Cassian incessantly pinning after Nesta.” Mor replied, a wild grin still on her face.  
“Well, originally,” Cassian interrupted as Amren smiled in amusement, “we were talking about Feyre and Rhysand.”  
“Oh?” Amren said, her attention back on the coffee. She didn’t know what to make of their relationship, but it seemed good. She just didn’t want Feyre to leave again.  
“We were just saying how we thought it was a bit sudden.” Cassian explained.  
“You, were saying that actually.” Mor countered. Amren shrugged. It wasn’t exactly her business and she said as much.  
Cassian opened his mouth to say something but stopped short when Rhys appeared in the doorway


	16. Aspirin

“Morning, guys.” Rhysand said in greeting, receiving four ‘mornings’ all out of time. He turned his attention to Amren, not noticing the sudden stillness of the room. “Do you have any aspirin or anything?” he asked.   
The small girl raised an eyebrow, “What, can’t hold you drink anymore?” she asked, opening a cupboard and reaching inside for a packet.   
Rhys shook his head, “Not me. Feyre isn’t used to drinking, she’s got a bit of a hangover. Headache and dehydrated, but don’t worry, she hasn’t thrown up anywhere.”   
“Such an innocent little bean.” Mor murmured as Rhysand left with the pills and a glass of water.  
Cassian grinned, “I’m going to have to teach her how to drink.” He said. In response a chorus of “No!” was shot back at him, which just made him grin wider.

* * *

Rhysand came back into the room and kneeled down in front of Feyre where she lay on her stomach on the edge of the bed. Her eyes cracked open as he whispered her name, and he handed her the aspirin and the water. She lifted her head to swallow them and grimaced at the pain that radiated through her head. She lay back down and closed her eyes, and he stroked her hair lightly. “I didn’t realise you were such a lightweight.” He whispered to her, his voice light with amusement.   
“Shut up.” Feyre grumbled in response. “I never drink, what do you expect?” Rhysand laughed softly then leaned forward to kiss her cheek. But he stopped, thinking better of it after what happened last night. He placed the water on the bedside table and left Feyre to sleep as he headed downstairs once again to join his friends.

They spent their day inside, due to the pelting rain. They made pancakes for breakfast – Amren’s speciality – and doused them with maple syrup. Apart from Cassian, who liked them with strawberries and whipped cream. They played board games that Amren dug out of a closet, which was probably far more entertaining than it should have been to a group of 20 and 21 year olds.   
Games like Candyland and Frustration, were brought from their childhood to the present, and Amren was crowned Pretty Pretty Princess, but they knew to stay well away from Monopoly. That never, _ever_ ended well. Except for Azriel who always won, though they could never figure out how.   
Late in the afternoon everyone began collecting their things to go back to Prythian. Rhysand tentatively opened the door to see Feyre sprawled across the bed. The pancakes he had brought up for her had been devoured, and the jug of water beside her was nearly empty. She lay propped up on her elbows, reading a book.   
As he opened the door fully and stepped in, Feyre looked up and smiled. “Hey, how are you?” Rhys asked, sitting down beside her. The desire to trace his fingers over her face as she flopped onto her back, and stared up at him was fierce, but he restrained himself.   
“So much better.” Feyre declared. “I nearly came down earlier, but once I was about two metres down the hallway I could hear you guys shouting and laughing. I thought having all that noise around me would probably bring my headache back so I came back.”   
Rhysand shook his head, “I feel so bad that you got so drunk Feyre-”  
“No,” She cut in, propping herself up, “don’t be sorry for that. I had a lot of fun, and I’m not your responsibility to take care of.” Rhys scanned her eyes, and knew it was more than that. He knew that Feyre wouldn’t have wanted him to tell her to slow down, to not drink as much. He knew it wasn’t his place to do so, which is why he didn’t.   
He was not Tamlin.   
“We’re leaving in 20 minutes, will you be ready by then?” He asked, heading to the bathroom to grab his own stuff. Feyre nodded and slid off the bed, replacing herself with her bag. She pulled out her clothes she had packed for today, as well as the scrap of red lace that Mor had convinced her to buy a year ago and had packed for her as underwear.   
As Rhys walked out of the bathroom, dropping his own bag on the bed, Feyre picked up her bra from the floor, red to match the bottom half. She bundled them up in her mini satin dressing gown out from the bottom of her bag, “I’m going for a really quick shower,” She said, heading towards the bathroom.   
“Okay,” Rhys replied simply, swinging his bag strap over his shoulder. “I’ll go put my bag in the Jeep and see how everyone else is doing.”   
In the shower, doused in water, Feyre remembered Rhys’ hands on her in the hot tub. She remembered his fingers tickling her sides, which had made her shiver, despite the hot water. She remembered his kisses, how she felt him smile against her skin after each one. She played the memories over in her head, wanting his fingers to trace her hip again.   
As she shut the shower off and climbed out, she suddenly remembered what had happened when they were in bed. How he had pulled her close and kissed his way round to her mouth. But he had stopped him. Not because she wanted him to, by the Cauldron did she want his mouth all over her, the thought of it shooting a tingle through her body.   
She stopped him because she wanted to be fully in her right of mind, because she wanted to remember every detail of-

A sharp intake of breath pulled Feyre out of her daydream. She had been so deep in her thought that she had put on her underwear and opened the door to walk out, forgetting anyone could be there. Her head was hanging forward, squeezing the water out of her hair with a towel. To the side enough that her body could be seen. Her head whipped up and she saw Rhysand sat on the bed, staring at her wide eyed. His intense gaze trapped her in place, as his eyes swept across her. They trailed over her full breasts, covered by the thin dressing down, the red of her bra peeking through. His eyes tracked over her waist, cinched in with the ties, which accentuated her curvaceous hips.   
His eyes lingered on the hem of the tiny robe, which ended at the very top of her thighs. He took his time dragging his eyes back up her body to her face, where their gaze locked. Rhysand stood up and slowly walked towards her, not breaking their eye contact. Stopping a foot away from her, he reached out and trailed his fingers down the side of her waist, his eyes burning.   
She took half a step towards him, so her robe brushed against him. He leaned down towards her and whispered “Feyre…”   
But just before their lips touched, Mor burst through the door. “Guys are-” was all Mor managed to say before her jaw dropped. Feyre had jumped behind Rhys, but Mor had seen what she was wearing – or rather, lack of what she was wearing. Mor gaped at them for a couple seconds before spinning around and slamming the door shut behind her. As soon as the door clicked closed Feyre rushed over to her pile of clothes and pulled them on.   
What was going on between them? Feyre was developing feelings for Rhys, she knew that. But him seeing her like that, when she wasn’t in control of how much he saw of her, made her feel vulnerable.   
“Feyre,” Rhys said, taking a step towards her, his eyes almost desperate. He could feel the change in her, and he didn’t want to screw up whatever this thing was that they had. Though he suspected that he just did.   
But Feyre just swung her bag over her shoulder and said to him, “They’re waiting for us.” Then walked out the door.


	17. Rugby

Rhysand hadn’t seen Feyre since Saturday. As soon as the Jeep had stopped, Feyre has jumped out and dashed off, claiming that Elain had an emergency. He hadn’t bothered to text her through Sunday, knowing she wouldn’t reply.  
Instead he spent the day with Cassian and Azriel, something they hadn’t done in a while.  
“So,” Cassian said as they rolled up to the sports centre in Azriel’s Toyota 86, “what happened with you and Feyre?”  
Rhysand froze, “What do you mean?”  
“You’ve been tense since we got back yesterday, not to mention Feyre practically ran off when we got back,” Azriel replied, turning the engine off, “we know you, Rhys.”  
“Well that,” Cassian said, “and it’s just also really freaking obvious.” They all climbed out of the car and Cassian clapped Rhys on the back. “We understand if you don’t want to talk about it yet, but we thought we’d bring you here to let off a little steam.”  
Rhys raised his eyebrow, “So what exactly are we doing here?”  
“We’re going to try something from home.” This time it was Azriel’s face who lit up with a devilish grin, “We’re going to play some rugby.”

* * *

Monday morning Rhysand groaned as he pulled himself out of bed. He was sore from the rugby session yesterday. He had played football before of course, but this was different. No padding, no protection from the other bodies slamming into you save from the measly mouth guard.  
And Azriel had not gone lightly on him.  
Why the British did that for fun, he didn't know.

He eased himself into his seat beside Feyre, concentrating too much on his aching body to really notice her at all. “What’s wrong with you?” Feyre asked.  
Rhysand let out a low laugh. “You don’t talk to me for a day and a half and ‘what’s wrong with you’ is all I get?”  
Feyre’s eyebrow’s furrowed, “You didn’t message me.”  
Rhysand looked at her disbelief, “I didn’t realise this was a one sided relationship.” He was only half playing along to them being a fake couple. Being friends takes two as well. Pink tinged Feyre’s cheeks at that, knowing what Rhysand meant.  
Feyre tentatively lay her hand over Rhsyands, “I’m sorry,” She whispered, and she was. She knew she could only run away from him too many times before he gave up.  
His eyes shot to their hands, and a whirl of emotion sang through his chest. _I can’t do this anymore_ he realised. _Not when I feel for her what I do. Not when she doesn’t care about me that way._ So saying nothing, he slid his hand out from under hers and turned his attention to Mr. Suriel.  
He didn’t see when Feyre’s face swamped with hurt, didn’t see her swallow down her own pain as she leaned back into her seat. Didn’t notice Feyre’s heart fracture, like his own just had.

As Rhysand was walking back to the Night House, Feyre hurried over and planted herself in front of him. “I want to sort this out.” She said, her voice firm.  
“There’s nothing to sort out.” Rhysand said, trying to walk around her. Feyre grabbed his arm, and the contact stopped him in his tracks.  
“Yes there is,” Feyre said, her eyes pleading. “The thing that happened at Amren’s, I freaked out because I didn’t expect you to come back to the room. I freaked out at you seeing me like that…” Feyre trailed off, not knowing what to say about how he had walked up to her, had ran his fingers down her side.  
“So you decided to not talk to me?” Rhysand asked, the usual humour in his voice gone, “Instead of trying to explain to me why you freaked out when we were there? Or when we got back? Or the whole of Sunday?”  
“That was a bad call, I admit.” Feyre said.  
“A bad call?” Rhysand laughed darkly. “You make it sound like a game. I know that this relationship is fake Feyre, but our friendship isn’t.”  
“I know, I know it isn’t,” Feyre said desperately. “I keep running away from you and I know I don’t have to, I know that. Just please forgive me.”  
“You still haven’t even told me why you ran away.” Rhysand said, his eyes cool. Feyre’s eyes fell to the floor.  
“Because it made me feel vulnerable.”  
“Jesus, Feyre,” he breathed, looking away disgusted. “I am not him, _I am not him_.”  
“I know you’re not!”  
“So why do you act like I am? Why do you act like I'm going to turn into him? We aren’t even together Feyre.” His eyes had turned intent, searching her own. “What are you scared of?”  
She faltered. She couldn’t tell him she was scared because she wanted him. She couldn’t say that she was falling headfirst for him. What happened at Amren’s house was just him reacting to seeing her half-dressed, he didn’t like her that way.  
So she whispered, “I don’t know.”  
Rhysand nodded slowly, “That’s what I thought.” He paused for a moment taking her in. Committing every angle of her face to memory as his heart broke just a little more as he said, “I can’t do this anymore.”  
As if Rhysand had just pushed her, she took a step back. “ _No_ ,” she breathed. No, this wasn't just about keeping Tamlin anymore. This was about her and him and what they had between them.   
Rhys was shaking his head now, moving away from her, “I can’t Feyre, not anymore.”  
“Why?” she asked, her voice cracking. She knew that what was between them wasn’t real, but she had gotten so used to always being near him, to talking to him and joking with him. She knew it wouldn’t be the same when they resorted back to just friends, if they could even stay friends after this. But Rhysand just shook his head. “Why?” Feyre demanded. She took a couple of steps towards him, “Why no-”  
“Because I’m in love with you!” Rhysand burst. His eyes were fiery, and Feyre had frozen. “I’m in love with you Feyre and I can’t pretend to be with you anymore, not when all you’re using me for is to keep Tamlin away, not when I know you don’t feel the same way-” He was cut short as Feyre crushed her lips to his. She pulled away and looked at the man before her. His mouth had dropped open from surprise and he was staring at her in disbelief.  
But then his hand slipped into her hair and brought her lips back to his. He kissed her softly, his other hand pressing against the small of her back, holding her against him.   
They broke apart and Feyre’s eyes met Rhysand’s as she cupped the side of his face and whispered “I'm in love you too, Rhys.”


	18. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm sorry it took so long to upload this chapter when it's so short, i really haven't had the time! (or any internet) ~ Tip

Rhysand hasn’t been able to stop kissing her. Ever since his outburst, since he knew that every time he kissed her, that it was real, he just couldn’t stop.   
His face lights up every time he sees her, and he grins every time he kisses her, hugs her, touches her.

Feyre isn’t much different.   
Now that she has Rhysand as a real boyfriend it was even better than before.   
Now, when she wants to kiss him, she just does, instead of repressing the urge or pretending it's for show.  
Now, she doesn’t have to pretend the tingles that shoot through her body when he kisses her neck aren’t there.

Now, she knows what it’s like to love someone and not be terrified of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone wants to request scenes (eg. Feysand telling the inner circle about the fake relationship, or anything like that) I'd be happy to!  
> Also thinking about doing a Nessian and an Elriel fic, what do you guys think?   
> Thank you so much for reading! ~ Tip


End file.
